The Way I Was
by daydreaminofhorses
Summary: Jenna has everything going right in her life until she and her boyfriend move to California and she runs into Adam Levine, the lead singer of Maroon 5. From there, her world is turned upside down. Disclaimer: I know this is an odd category to put this story in, but it's not really fanfic of any other category.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The winter of my senior year of college I fell in love with him. He helped me to calm down when I was stressed out. He made me smile and dance. He made everything I did more enjoyable. My family and friends quickly grew tired of hearing him, but I never did. The longer I knew him, the more I loved him. He could do no wrong.

It wasn't until a few years later in my life that I realized what an impact Adam Levine was to have on my life.

I met Dylan when I began working as an intern at Random House, a publishing house in New York City. He was sweet, handsome and charming, and I fell for him quickly and harder than I would have liked. Two years later, I moved in with him and we were more serious than I had been with any boyfriend I had heretofore had. He was also the only person I had met since the publication of my surprisingly and overwhelmingly successful book, _The Garden _that had not been overly impressed with my success. He treated me like a normal person, not a celebrity, and there was something exceedingly refreshing about that.

Truth be told, I didn't have to work for financial stability after I published that book, but I liked to have a certain consistency in my life and by continuing to work while I also wrote at the same time made me feel like I was still in some way contributing to society. My friends all thought I was crazy continuing to work, but I liked it. I loved the possibility tangible in each manuscript that came through the door of the publishing house. I loved seeing the realm of creativity still apparent in the minds of so many people. And, thanks to the success of my book, I got to have a nice apartment in New York City, a stable job that excited me, and a feeling of purpose in my life.

Everything in my life was as comfortable and happy as I could possibly have hoped for.

So when Dylan found out that his sickly mother's health had taken a turn for the worse, and that he had to move to California to take care of her, I was a little bit jarred. Sure there were publishing houses in California, in fact there was a branch of Random House not far from where we would have to live, but California was just not the same as New York City, which I had come to love dearly. I would miss the hustle-and-bustle atmosphere of the city, but California seemed like an exciting adventure, and the warm weather was definitely a perk.

Dylan's mother lived in Beverly Hills, so we would have to find a house or apartment in that general vicinity. I suppose I forgot to mention that Dylan came from money.

We made the move in June – a slow month for the publishing company, which gave us both time to settle in comfortably without too much work to worry about in the meantime. We found a decent apartment, about the same size as the one we left in New York City, and for about the same price, that was within easy travelling distance of both the city of Los Angeles and the nursing home where Dylan's mom was living. It didn't take long for us to settle in.

Soon, Dylan and I had made some friends at work, and one night they offered to take us out to a club that they knew was often frequented by Hollywood stars. Of course we agreed. That was the beginning of the end. And the beginning of the beginning. It sounds confusing, but you'll see.

Dylan and I walked into the bar and found a booth in a dark, relatively quiet corner (and by relatively quiet I mean that if we screamed to each other, we could probably hear what the other was saying). Our friends, Layla and Jaden hadn't yet arrived, so when we sat on the same side of our booth, it looked like we were being lovey-dovey, even though we really weren't. Dylan had been a little less than affectionate recently, but I blamed it more on the stress of the move and his mother's ever-depleting health rather than problems in our relationship.

I scanned the crowd from the moment we walked into the club, trying my best to see if I could spot a celebrity. Unfortunately, the flashing lights in the otherwise dark room and the sheer mass amount of people in the club made it nearly impossible to distinguish anyone's face. No wonder the celebrities liked to come here. It would be easy to hang out here without being recognized.

"I'm going to go get a drink. Do you want one?" I asked Dylan.

"I can get one for us," he offered.

"It's fine. I'm sitting on the outside anyway," I replied easily. Really I just wanted to get a closer look at the faces in the shadows.

"Okay. Can you get me a Budweiser?" he asked.

"No prob, Bob," I said easily, and was crossing the club to the bar in the middle before Dylan could say anything else.

I sat down on an empty stool and waited for the bartender to come over to me. A man sat three stools away on my left immersed in his iPhone and a scantily clad blondie sat to my right, twirling her hair and all but screaming, "Come hit on me!" as she glanced 'innocently' around the club.

Not long after I sat down, the bartender came over. He was a scruffy looking man with long, curly hair and a button-down shirt that was open at the top, revealing an extremely hairy chest. Just who I wanted mixing something I was going to drink.

"What can I get you, pretty lady?" the bartender asked me, a predatory grin stretched across his face.

"I'll have a gin and tonic on the rocks and a Budweiser," I said.

"Coming right up," he answered, turned around and began mixing ingredients.

The man to my left glanced over at me. I tried not to look in his direction. Maybe going to the bar by myself wasn't the best idea. Everyone was starting to get the idea that I was single and ready to mingle. Not true. In my peripheral vision, I could see the man slowly stand up and seat himself on the stool next to mine.

Dear God. What should I do? I glanced back at the booth where I had left Dylan. He was on his cell phone, not looking in my direction at all, completely unaware that I wanted his attention. Great.

And then the stranger started talking. "So what is a beautiful woman like yourself doing at a bar all alone on a Friday night?" he said in a voice that I could swear sounded achingly familiar.

I turned slowly to my left to look at the man.

No way.

Oh my God.

Was this real life?

Holy shit.

There was no way this was real life.

I think my face must have shown that I registered just who had hit on me. Adam Levine was the man sitting next to me, grinning devilishly. Holy sweet Jesus, he was even more gorgeous in real life than he was in all of the pictures I had gazed at of him. His thick, tousled dark hair just begged to have my fingers run through it. Those green eyes twinkled mischievously as he took in my stunned expression, and his scruff-covered face stretched into that breath-taking crooked smile I had seen so often on TV, magazine covers and the Internet.

After a few moments, I realized what a freak I was being and that I should start speaking. I closed my mouth, shook my head quickly, and replied, "I'm not alone."

How I managed to form a coherent response to his question is beyond me. Cool and collected, Jenna. Remember what Aunt Juli always tells you. It's all about attitude.

"So where are your friends?" he asked, his unfaltering grin showing that he didn't believe me that I was here with someone.

"Well, they haven't gotten here yet. But my boyfriend is at our booth over there," I said, inclining my head in the general direction of the booth.

"Your boyfriend?" he repeated as if he still didn't believe me. What a dick.

"Yes, my boyfriend," I replied, a note of indignation coloring my voice. Why didn't he believe me that I had a boyfriend?

"I don't believe you," he said easily, folding his arms on the bar closer to me and leaning forward, his face now inches from my own.

"Why not?" I asked, completely indignant now.

"If he were really your boyfriend, he would have been a gentleman and come to the bar himself to get you two drinks," he reasoned, those eyes boring into mine, a hint of amusement still hidden behind his blank face.

"I offered to get them. I couldn't stand to just sit still," I explained.

"Ah, but a real gentleman who values his girlfriend would have insisted on at least coming with her so that she wouldn't be left alone and vulnerable to the preying of lonely men like me looking for company with a beautiful woman like yourself," he replied smoothly, making my face go red. Thank goodness it was dark in there. Maybe he couldn't see the color flooding my face.

"Or maybe he just knows that I can handle myself and a quick trip to the bar to get us some drinks isn't a threat to our relationship," I shot back just as smoothly, my voice remaining level while my blood boiled inside me. I couldn't decide if I was overjoyed that Adam Levine was hitting on me or furious that he was being such a dick.

"Let me guess, this is one of the first dates you two have been on?" he asked as if he knew Dylan and me. Bitch, you don't know me. You don't know what I beeeen through.

"We've been dating for two years actually," I replied coolly.

He grimaced. "Ooh, then things aren't going so well, are they?"

Oh my God. I couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. So maybe we hadn't had sex in over a month and maybe he seemed a little more distant than usual lately. We had just made a huge change in our lives and his mom was dying. It wasn't anything to be worried about. We were fine. Just because he was the lead singer of a highly successful band didn't give him the right to intrude on my personal life.

It just so happened that my drinks were done at that point. I slid a fifty across the bar to Mr. Hairy Man without breaking eye contact with Adam. "Listen, Dr. Phil. My boyfriend and I are perfectly happy and he treats me much better than some inconsiderate, self-absorbed egomaniac who hits on strangers at a bar and is way more impressed with himself than anyone else in this club," I snapped, gathered my drinks, spun on my heel, and walked back to our booth in a huff.

Layla and Jalen had just arrived when I got to the booth. In the excitement of seeing them, followed shortly thereafter by a false alarm Brad Pitt sighting, I forgot the encounter with Adam Levine and simply enjoyed the rest of the night.

When Dylan and I got back home, I decided that I was going to prove Adam wrong whether he knew about it or not. I changed into some sexy lingerie that I hadn't worn since Valentine's Day and crawled into bed next to Dylan, who was watching TV. I slid the remote out of his fingers and kissed him slowly, turning off the TV at the same time.

When we broke apart, he looked up and down at me, raising his eyebrows at the sight of my attire. "What's the occasion?" he asked.

"Do we need an occasion?" I replied, sitting on his lap with one leg on either side of him. I ran my fingers through his curly black hair and kissed him again.

"I think you had a little bit too much to drink tonight," he mumbled when we separated, but ran his hands up my back anyway.

I ignored his comment, and kissed his jaw, neck and chest. I had forgotten how perfectly sculpted his body was. Who needed Adam Levine anyway?

His ran his fingers across my back, stroking and squeezing me.

I returned to his face, kissing him again, harder this time, more fervently. Soon the lingerie was gone, as were his boxers. Oh yes, Adam was wrong. We were just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

As it would happen, the night at the club would not be the only time that I ran into the talented and frustrating Adam Levine. A few weeks after that incident, I was asked to make an appearance at a writer's convention in Hollywood to meet some of my fans, sign some autographs and teach a seminar or two on writing young adult fiction. I was happy to comply, and had a great time at the convention.

While I was there, I ran into Stephenie Meyer, oddly enough, who said that Kristen Stewart had been going on and on recently about my book. "Kristen's having a party tonight and I just know she'd love to meet you," Stephenie told me.

I was completely taken aback and could not immediately reply. I'm not going to lie; I had read all of the _Twilight_ books when they first came out. I enjoyed the first one, but every book afterwards just got progressively worse in my opinion. The movies made the series worse yet, and worst of all was the fan base. The screaming fan girls just annoyed me. As for Kristen Stewart, I thought she was a shoddy actress, not to mention a stuck-up bitch who needed to crack a smile every once in a while. But hey, I didn't know her. She could be really nice.

And I can't say the idea of going to a Hollywood party didn't entice me. Who wouldn't want to go to a crazy party where there was sure to be plenty of celebrities?

"Um, yeah, sure, I'd love to go," I finally replied before I could think too hard about what going to a Hollywood party hosted by a major star would entail.

"Great! Here's her address. The party starts at ten. See you there!" she said, scribbling an address on a back of one of the seminar brochures and handing it to me. All I could think was, _don't you have kids? Shouldn't you be tucking them into bed at ten o'clock? Aren't you a little old for this kind of event?_

When I got home that night, I found Dylan in our bedroom on the phone. "Yeah, okay, I've gotta go. Bye," he said quickly as I walked in the room.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked, surveying him sprawled shirtless across the bed, covers mussed, TV on. Someone was channeling his inner twelve-year-old.

"Nothing. How'd that conference go?" he answered quickly, sitting up and finding a plain white t-shirt to throw on.

"The convention was great," I corrected him subtly, straightening the bed covers because I'm OCD and mussed bed covers are my biggest pet peeve. He knew that, as did everyone else in my life, but, like everyone else, it didn't seem to change the fact that they always left my covers wrinkled. "You'll never guess who I ran into," I added.

"J.K. Rowling?" he ventured from inside the closet where he seemed to be digging through the ever-present pile of clothes on the floor as if looking for something.

"I wish. Stephenie Meyer actually," I replied, flopping down on my neat-as-a-pin bed.

"Really? Did you tell her that her books suck and she should be ashamed to be plaguing society with them?" he asked, leaning backwards into the main room to grin at me.

I laughed. "No, we didn't really get a chance to talk. She just told me that Kristen Stewart really likes my book," I said.

"Ew," Dylan said, his voice muffled from inside the closet again.

"I know, right? Anyway, apparently she wants to meet me and she's having a party tonight," I continued. Dylan finally left the closet to stand directly in front of me, an appraising eyebrow raised at me.

"Kristen Stewart invited you to a party tonight?" he repeated.

"Yeah," I answered briefly. "Can you believe it? I've been invited to a _Hollywood party_. It doesn't even start until ten," I told him in my best impressed voice.

"Whoa. You usually go to sleep at ten!" he exclaimed in mock surprise.

"I know! I bet they'll have hors d'oeuvres wrapped in money or something," I said.

"Maybe they'll give out cool party favors like life-sized cardboard cutouts of Rob Pattinson," Dylan suggested.

"Or maybe they'll just give out Rob Pattinson clones," I replied.

We speculated about the wonders that would be at this party for a while, laughing and joking until every other sentence out of Dylan's mouth was something about how hungry he was.

I took the hint and made dinner for us, and cleaned up afterwards while Dylan watched the Knicks game (you can take the boy out of New York but you can't take away his love of the Knicks). Around 9 I started getting ready to go to the party. I got myself all prettied up and was ready to go at a quarter to ten.

"Aren't you coming?" I asked Dylan on my way out.

"Nah, that party sounds too crazy for me. Make sure you bring me back a Rob Pattinson though," he replied from the couch.

"Absolutely," I said, kissed him quickly, and left.

It took me a little longer to find the place than I had at first anticipated, but once I did, boy did I. Kristen Stewart owned a gorgeous mansion (shock surprise) and the entire place was packed with people and bouncing from the bass of the music playing.

I made my way inside and walked around for a while, just trying to find a place where I didn't look lost. Turns out it was the bar again. I was really on a roll.

"Can I get an apple martini, please?" I asked the bartender, who simply nodded silently. I leaned on the bar for lack of stool to sit on and scanned the crowd for any familiar faces, any at all.

"Well, well, well, so we meet again." The voice was right in my ear, and I could feel a hot breath on my neck.

I jumped up suddenly and turned around, ready to punch the speaker in the face for scaring me like that. Once I saw who it was, I was really ready to punch him. It was Adam.

I groaned and looked away. "Oh go away," I said dismissively.

"Where's your boyfriend? Holding down a chair for you somewhere?" he asked, sipping on his own drink, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"He wanted to stay home," I mumbled, angry at myself for not forcing him to come with me. Seriously, Jenna.

"Oooh, so you're not important enough for him to pick his fat ass up off the couch to take you to a Hollywood party?" he asked, a note of mock sympathy in his voice as he winced.

I glared at him for a moment, fuming. "Fuck you," I said and turned around to the bar again.

"My, my, such harsh words for someone who looks so much like a classy lady," he said, raising a mocking eyebrow at me.

"Like you never use foul language," I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest and refusing to meet his eyes.

"I'm not a lady," he pointed out.

"Why don't you just go away?" I asked, dropping my arms and turning to him in exasperation. I sounded rather like a middle schooler, but I didn't even care at that point. He made me think too much about things I didn't particularly care to think about.

"Because I like you," he replied, grinning at me.

I stared at him blankly for a minute, that crooked grin of his never faltering, those green eyes never leaving mine. "You don't even know my name," I finally said, and turned to check the progress on my drink. Seriously? How long did it take to make a fucking martini?

"What is your name, gorgeous?" he asked in his most seductive voice. Oh boy, that voice. He reached across the bar and took my martini before I even knew it was ready, handing the bartender a hundred dollar bill. Show off.

"Hey, that's mine!" I said, sounding even more like a middle schooler.

"I don't know, I just paid for it," he pointed out, his eyes twinkling wickedly.

"Give me my martini," I demanded, my hand outstretched for it.

"I will when you tell me what your name is," he said.

I stared at him again for another long moment, contemplating the situation. God, I just needed that alcohol inside of my body. It would be a lot easier to deal with this situation that way. "Why should I tell you?"

"You clearly want me to know," he said.

"I do _not_!" I exclaimed indignantly.

"Yes you do. You wouldn't have pointed out that I didn't know it if you didn't want me to know," he pointed out.

I glared at him. How dare he make sense.

I was just about to tell him my name was something ridiculous like Martha or Nebraska or something when that damn Kristen Stewart came up to me and said, "Oh my God, Jenna Bodnar!"

I maintained eye contact with Adam as she said this and watched a devilish grin spread across his face as he handed me my martini.

I turned to Kristen and smiled warmly at her. "Hi, it's nice to meet you," I said, shaking her hand.

"Oh my God, I _love_ your book," she said, speaking through her teeth like she does. Bleh.

"Thank you," I said sweetly, smiling at her even more graciously.

"Hey, if you get offered movie rights to that book, I am totally trying out for the part of Maddy," she told me.

Good lord. How old did she think she was?

"Well, I haven't gotten any offers for a movie yet, but I will keep that in mind," I said truthfully, all the while making a mental note to make sure that if I ever was offered to have a movie made of it that there be a clause in the contract stating that Kristen Stewart could not play Maddy.

"Awesome!" she said, saw someone else she knew, and walked away.

I took the break in conversation as an opportunity to take a long swig of my martini.

"Easy, Jenna, you'll be drunk before you know it with those things," Adam said, buzzing in my ear like a relentless fly. Good God there was no getting rid of him.

I spun around to face him directly. "I can handle myself," I said defiantly.

He gave me a disbelieving look and took another swig of whatever he was drinking, the filthy hypocrite. "Hey, do you want to dance?" he asked me.

I narrowed my eyebrows at him. "No. I don't," I said blankly.

"Come on, Jenna, just one quick dance," he persisted. "I don't know if you've heard, but I've got the moves like Jagger."

I tried my very best not to roll my eyes. After a moment, I said, "Does that line ever work?"

"You'd be surprised," he grinned.

No, I wouldn't. Because if he had just used that line on me and we hadn't spoken before, I would have said yes. I mean, it's Adam Levine. Come on.

"All right, Jenna, if you don't want to dance, we can always just go skinny dipping," he jokingly offered in a completely serious voice.

"Please stop using my name in every sentence you say," I said, ignoring his comment.

"I like your name. I like being able to call you by your name. _Jenna, Jenna, the sexy, pretty lady. She's Jenna, Jenna, the pretty girl who hates me_," he sang.

I couldn't help it. He was singing, and singing a song about me, and I just couldn't help myself. I broke my cool and collected façade and burst out laughing.

He grinned, seeing me laugh.

"That was so bad," I said, still laughing.

"Hey!" he pretended to be offended. "I spent a lot of time on that. I thought it was pretty good," he said, laughing himself. When we stopped laughing, he said, "Well look at that, you actually can smile."

"Shut up," I said, punching him in the arm.

He laughed again and took my now empty glass away from me.

"Hey!" I said indignantly.

"Calm down," he said, grinning teasingly at me and winking. He took the glass to the bar and said, "Fill her up again, Ernie."

"Yes, sir," the bartender, apparently Ernie, said.

Adam returned to my side, standing much closer this time than he had before, and stared down at me with those eyes. "But really, let's dance," he said, sliding his hand down my arm and intertwining his fingers with mine, pulling my arm toward the dance floor without breaking eye contact with me.

"Adam," I started, with much less resignation than before.

"Just until your drink is done," he said, still pulling me toward the crowd of dancing bodies, staring at me with those persuasive green eyes.

"I have a boyfriend," I reminded him, having to shout to be heard over the music, as we got closer to the dancers.

"Who isn't here," Adam pointed out.

"This is the only dance. We're just dancing until my drink is done and then that's it! No more!" I told him as we entered the crowd of dancers. Adam nodded, though I had the feeling he really wasn't listening at this point.

We stayed on the edge of the crowd so I could still see the bar, and Adam let go of my hand, stepping behind me and putting his hands on my waist instead. At first, I just stood stock still, afraid suddenly to dance with him, but then he pulled my body up against his and started rocking from side to side, his hands on my waist moving me along with him. I don't like to admit this, but I love grinding, and he was damn good at it, so it didn't take much for me to dance along with him. Before I knew it, I was getting lower and leaning hard into his chest and he was thrusting his pelvis harder and harder on me, his hands squeezing my waist and caressing me. I put my hands over top of his and he twined his fingers with mine, his thumbs wrapping around my hands, holding them down on his. He pressed his face into my hair, and I could feel his breath on my neck.

I could have gone on like that for a while, just dancing up close to Adam Levine, who sang songs about me and paid so much attention to me and made me feel sexy. Right as I was thinking that, I felt him kiss my neck softly and slowly, the scruff on his face tickling my skin. Ooh, it felt good, but it was just one step too far.

I broke away from him suddenly, pulling myself out of his grasp and turning around to face him.

He looked shocked that I broke away from him so quickly, his arms still outstretched.

"My drink's done," I shouted at him over the music, pointing in the direction of the bar.

He nodded and walked with me over to the bar. He tried to slip his arm around my waist, but I quickly pulled out of his embrace, keeping a good distance between us. Suddenly, there was an awkward tension between us that hadn't been there before we started dancing.

Before I reached the bar, Adam slipped another hundred-dollar bill to Ernie and silently handed me my drink.

"Thank you," I murmured, and took a sip of my drink, avoiding his eye contact. I really wanted more than a sip at this point, but if Adam saw me chugging down the martinis, he would know exactly what effect he was having on me, and he couldn't know. It would give him too much power over me.

He nodded, staring at the ground and looking around the room. "Do you want to go outside?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes," I replied instantly. Some fresh air would be good for me. It would clear my mind.

We walked out onto the balcony adjoining the room that served as a dance floor. Adam held the door open for me and closed it behind us when we got outside.

The balcony was completely empty save for us two, and the view was breathtaking. Lights from the houses and city below twinkled in the night, and the stars were surprisingly visible for a town casting off so much light into the sky. A warm breeze ruffled my hair and I wrapped my arms around myself, enjoying the feeling of the warm air kissing my skin.

"Are you cold?" Adam asked, suddenly breaking the silence between us. He came up next to where I stood leaning on the edge of the balcony, still taking in the view.

"No, it's so wonderfully warm for this early in the summer," I replied, grinning at Adam despite myself, which immediately made him smile back.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"New York," I said, savoring the way those words sounded coming out of my mouth. Yes, I was from _New York City_, the City of all cities, the international crossroads. I've always thought just the name itself, _New York_, sounded so high end, so fashionable. I grew up in Pittsburgh, but since I had lived in New York for several years, I justified telling people that was where I was from. It just sounded so much more impressive than saying I was from nasty, dirty, steel-city, football-obsessed Pittsburgh. Bleh.

"What brings you to this neck of the woods?" he continued. This was the first non-combative, normal conversation we had had since we met, so I decided not to question his motives and to just tell him the same truth I would tell anyone who asked me the same reasonable question.

"My boyfriend's mom just got really sick and we came over here so he could take care of her," I answered.

He was silent for a moment and finally said, "Well that was very nice of you to make such a big move just to help your boyfriend's mom." I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

"Don't start," I said, my voice returning to its defensive, ready-to-attack tone rather than the conversational one I had been using.

"What?" he asked, as if he didn't know.

"You know what," I said.

"You're going to have to explain because I do not know," he insisted.

"You weren't going to start telling me that if my boyfriend were a real man he wouldn't have made me move all the way across the country just to take care of his mom despite the fact that I agreed to move and he didn't _make_ me do anything and if I hadn't wanted to move, I wouldn't have and maybe I just wanted to try out living somewhere new for a change? You weren't going to tell me that if my boyfriend were a real man he would have paid to have his mom moved to New York so he could take care of her there without uprooting me too despite the fact that his mom grew up here and making her move would basically be the death of her because she wouldn't be able to handle the shock of leaving behind everything she holds near and dear in this quiet and peaceful neighborhood she lives in and moving to the City that Never Sleeps?" I demanded, the words spouting out of my mouth faster than I could think of what I was saying.

He was quiet for a moment, and he took another swig of his drink as he gazed out across Beverly Hills. "I might have been thinking along those lines," he finally muttered.

"Listen, Adam, I think you spend too much time in a world that very few people would consider realistic. I just met you. I barely know you. You just learned my name today. I've known Dylan for three years and we've been dating for two. I'm not going to just dump my boyfriend who is the reason I'm here in the first place because the hot lead singer from my very favorite band started hitting on me. It's not going to happen. I know what you want. All you want is a quick hit of hot sex and then you'll be writing songs about how we should break up and I will be left behind in the dust. I've been down similar paths before. I do not care to make the same mistakes," I explained with as little bitterness in my voice as I could muster.

There was a long silence in which the tension that was already there multiplied by like a billion. Finally, he said, "You don't know me as well as you think you do."

I mulled this over for a moment, and eventually said, "Fair enough."

Another pause that seemed to stretch into infinity.

"Do you really think I'm hot?" he asked me suddenly.

I glanced up at him with an incredulous look on my face. "Uh, duh, you're Adam Levine. You're like a sex symbol," I replied without thinking and he laughed at me.

We fell into another stretch of silence, this one infinitely less uncomfortable than the previous ones. I continued to sip on my martini while I watched the stars. After a while, he said, "Jenna."

I turned to look at him. He had been staring at me the entire time, and suddenly seemed much closer than he had been before. "Yeah?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you. I understand everything you just told me, but I want you to know that I still love you and I'm going to continue to try to get you to love me until something forces me to stop," he said, maintaining eye contact the entire time, his face seeming to come closer and closer to mine as he spoke.

I didn't know what to do. Nobody had ever said anything remotely close to that to me ever before. His words left me speechless and while I didn't want to give into his advances, it was beyond difficult to not do so. Instead, I just continued to stare at him and his ever-approaching gorgeous face. "Adam," I finally said, about to tell him to just give up now before it got to be too hard, but he put a finger to my lips.

"You don't have to say anything," he whispered, running his finger from my lips across my cheek, brushing back my hair with his strong hand, callused from so much guitar playing – guitar playing that had been the soundtrack of the last several years of my life.

He looked like he was going to kiss me, and to be honest, I don't know if I would have had the strength to stop him, had a giggly and over-intoxicated couple not stumbled onto the balcony just then, breaking our reverie.

I cleared my throat and backed up a few steps, shaking my head as if that would rid it of these dangerous thoughts that were running through it. Adam remained where he was, and just finished off his drink. The giggling couple saw us, giggled some more, and ran back inside, apparently realizing that they were not wanted.

"I should go," I said after they left us alone in a tense silence again.

Adam made no reply at first, but as I started to walk away said, "Do you want me to drive you home?"

I turned around to face him again. "I'll be fine. I only had two martinis. I can handle myself," I replied.

For some reason unbeknownst to me, this made the corner of his mouth turn up in a half-amused grin. "Okay. I'll see you later," he said, waving good-bye by way of lifting a few fingers from his glass.

"Are you coming inside?" I asked.

"Nah, I think I'll stay out here for a while," he replied.

"Okay," I said quietly. "Bye." I raised my hand quickly by way of good-bye, turned and went inside. I left my glass on the bar and left that house so quickly people probably thought I'd seen a ghost or something.

Good God, what had I gotten myself into?

When I got into my car, I rolled down the windows, the feeling of the cool air whipping across my face snapping me out of my strange mood somewhat. I blasted the radio, hoping to drone my thoughts out with the music. It was starting to work until the radio went to commercial. At that point, I turned it down and started pep talking myself.

"Jenna, he is nothing to you. He is the lead singer of your favorite band. Nothing more, nothing less. He is a player. All he wants is to get into your pants. Dylan has been there for you for three years. You love Dylan. He's the best. He isn't a player and he can count on one hand how many girls he's slept with. He isn't a self-absorbed egomaniac. Dylan is great and you love him. Adam is terrible and you hate him. You and Dylan are very happy together. You and Dylan are very happy together. You and Dylan are very happy together."

With that, I pulled into our garage and walked into the apartment. It was only one in the morning but all of the lights were already off. When I changed into a skimpy, silky nightgown, I couldn't help but imagine the look on Adam's face if I were to approach him in it. When I crawled into bed next to Dylan who was facing the opposite direction and snoring, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to have Adam wrap his well-muscled arm around me and that if he snored, it would probably sound like angels singing.

And when I laid there, trying to erase the memory of all of the things that happened tonight, trying to forget how wonderful it felt to be touched and spoken to like Adam touched and spoke to me, trying to pretend that I didn't want him to kiss me on that balcony, trying to tell myself that what I told him about my relationship with Dylan was true, all I could really think of was the fact that if Adam were here, he would say that a real gentleman would have waited up for his beautiful girlfriend to come home instead of gone to sleep and not even had the decency to leave a light on for her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The next week passed without incident. Dylan and I went to work together, Dylan and I came home together, Dylan and I ate dinner together, I cleaned up dinner while Dylan watched TV, I read over some manuscripts from work while Dylan continued to watch TV, Dylan and I went to sleep. But we did not sleep together.

Truth be told, ever since Kristen Stewart's party, I had a hard time even looking at Dylan without feeling a twinge of guilt. I tried to act normally around him, but was so self-conscious about my every move I couldn't even tell anymore if I was acting strangely or not. If I were doing anything out of the ordinary, Dylan gave me very few signs that he noticed a difference.

Instead, I only noticed more and more exactly how unaffectionate he really was. We talked pretty amiably and we didn't fight, but there was nothing passionate about our relationship. He didn't wrap his arm around me when we went to sleep at night, he didn't hold my hand when we walked into work, he didn't even kiss me goodnight anymore. The worst part was that I couldn't tell if he was just becoming more distant, or if I were only acutely aware of how little attention he paid me because Adam had paid me so much attention. Had we always been like this? I couldn't even remember.

For the first few days, I tried to prove to myself that we were still very much in love. I tried to hold his hand on the way into work, but then we had to go through a door and our hands separated and he didn't reach for mine a second time. I tried making out with him before we went to sleep, hoping it would lead to something else. He kissed me back at first, but then broke apart, said he was really tired, and turned over. And no matter how many different combinations of lingerie I wore to bed, nothing ever enticed him to get a few less hours of sleep.

I understand that relationships in real life aren't all romance and flowers like in the movies, but if we were this distant after two years of dating, would we just become more distant as the years went on?

Early in the week, my agent, Linda, called me and asked me to attend a charity dinner that was intended to raise money to help underprivileged children with ADHD, which I thought was an oddly specific reason to have a charity dinner, but hey, it's charity. It would be good publicity for me to go and I would be helping out children in need at the same time. I agreed to go and, after some persuasion, Dylan agreed to come with me.

It was a very formal dinner, according to Linda, so I put on my nicest little black dress, and Linda had a stylist come to me to fix my hair and makeup. She gave me smoky eyes and put my hair in an up-do and when she was done, I hardly recognized myself in the mirror.

Dylan was waiting for me in the living room when the stylist finished, and I couldn't help but think that maybe this would be the night the romance in our relationship would spark up again. Maybe we just needed to go out somewhere nice and I just had to get all dressed up to remind him of how much he loved me.

Dylan gave me a quick onceover and blankly said, "You look nice." There was no eyebrow raise. There was no suggestive tone in his words. Just very simply, you look nice. So much for reigniting the romance in our relationship.

"Thanks," I said without enthusiasm.

We walked down to the limo that was waiting for us outside of the apartment without further conversation and without any physical contact.

When we arrived at the restaurant where the event was being held, someone opened the door for us and Dylan and I exited the limo to a wave of flashes and paparazzi. Authors don't really get a lot of paparazzi attention unless you are J.K. Rowling or Stephen King, and I was nowhere near at the same level of prestige as either of those authors, so the paparazzi snapped a few pictures and more or less left us alone. One news reporter asked me what I thought about the charity and I gave her a pretty generic 'I think it's great' response in much more eloquent terms. Really, these people were just interested in talking to couples like Brad and Angelina or Robert Downey Jr. and his wife.

Dylan and I made our way inside and were directed to a table by the hostess where Libba Bray, the author of one of my favorite book series, and her husband sat. We made polite conversation for a while and she and I shared publishing stories while our dates talked about sports mostly.

As the room began to fill, our conversation was easier and easier and I was actually enjoying myself.

I had just begun to relax when I looked up just in time to see Adam Levine enter the room. Good God. I had forgotten that he had ADHD and was always promoting campaigns to raise adult ADHD awareness. I turned to Libba and hoped he wouldn't notice me there.

Unfortunately, my wish was not to come true, surprise, surprise.

"I just keep running into you, don't I?" Adam said to me, grinning at me as he came up to our table, standing directly behind Libba and her husband so they had to crane their necks to see who had spoken.

I didn't know what to do with myself. I couldn't really react or Dylan would be suspicious. Also, I suddenly realized I hadn't told Dylan about either of my run-ins with Adam. Woops. I smiled as innocently as I could and said, "Hi, Adam." The words sounded easy and confident coming out of my mouth despite the adrenaline pumping through my veins now and the sickening feeling flooding my stomach. I suddenly remembered my manners, cleared my throat and said, "Adam, this is Libba Bray, her husband Barry, and this is my boyfriend, Dylan," I said, enunciating the words 'my boyfriend' very clearly and carefully, giving Adam a meaningful look as I said this. "And this is Adam Levine," I told my table.

There was a round of quiet, "Nice to meet you"s from Libba and her husband, but Dylan said nothing.

Adam nodded politely at them, but then turned to Dylan and said, "Nice to meet you, Dylan. I've heard so much about you. I was wondering when you would finally show up at an event with your girlfriend so I could meet you." There was no mistaking the venom in his voice. Libba clearly heard it as she raised an eyebrow at me. I thought I was going to be sick.

Dylan seemed a bit taken aback by that and didn't immediately reply.

I forced out a laugh and said, "Oh you really haven't been waiting that long to meet him. You're so funny, Adam." Oh God, I could hear the guilt in my own voice.

"Some of us have to work and don't always have time to party," Dylan replied, his voice cold, his face not showing any humor in it.

"I would just think that if you're lucky enough to have a beautiful girlfriend like her you would make time to spend with her," Adam shot back, his face not betraying any evidence of viciousness, but the malice clearly evident behind his voice.

"Adam, stop," I said, my smile never faltering but my voice serious.

Dylan turned to me, a look of such ire on his face, and turned back to Adam, "I don't really see how the amount of time I spend with my girlfriend is any of your business," he shot back, his face the only one of the three of us that displayed exactly how angry he was.

"And that's the thing, it really isn't," I piped up, putting my hand over top of Dylan's and smiling closed-mouthed and tight-lipped at Adam, shooting him daggers with my eyes.

Adam glanced from me to Dylan to our hands one on top of another, then back to Dylan as he said, "I'm just saying, you should keep an eye on her. You'd be really losing out if someone else snatched her up, and you're making it pretty easy for someone to do that."

I could have punched him. Why not just tell Dylan we were having sex? It didn't matter that we hadn't even come close to that, from the way he was talking he was giving everyone the idea that we were having an affair. That dickface.

"Well lucky for Dylan, we are in a committed relationship, and he doesn't need to worry about anyone 'snatching me up' because I can handle myself and I wouldn't leave him for anyone else," I said, the smile fading, my words coming out cold and hard. I don't know why but this unexpected attack made me suddenly extremely committed to Dylan and protective of our relationship.

Just then, the emcee tapped the microphone at the front of the room and asked everyone to take their seats.

"It was nice meeting you all," Adam said to Libba and Barry. "See you later, Jenna," he said to me, giving me one last meaningful glance just in case Dylan might have had any doubt that there was something going on between us. I said nothing, but glared back at him, all traces of a polite façade gone.

"Well," Libba said in a tone that was obviously meant to break the tension at the table, "Nothing like dinner and a show."

I smiled weakly at her and glanced sideways at Dylan, who was staring at the table, avoiding my eye contact. I kept my hand on his as the emcee started talking and didn't hear a word of what he had to say. I did catch that the sponsor of tonight's dinner, Mr. Adam Levine, was going to give a speech after we all ate. Perfect. Just perfect.

We ate in an uncomfortable silence despite the buzz of chatter from all of the other tables in the room. Libba and Barry seemed embarrassed to have witnessed what just happened. They tried to continue the conversation that started earlier, but every word that came out of my mouth was forced and sounded it. Dylan didn't speak for the rest of the dinner.

Eventually, waiters came by and took away our plates, mine looking more or less untouched as I had suddenly lost my appetite. And then, to top off the fantastic evening, the emcee asked for everyone's attention as he introduced Adam Levine.

I had to turn my chair around to face the stage and kept my arms and legs crossed as I glared at the stage, refusing to clap as Adam jogged jauntily onstage.

"Is everyone having a good night?" Adam asked, clearly used to entertaining crowds of fans, not delivering serious speeches. A few people clapped, but mostly everyone else muttered something under their breath. "How about that food?" he continued. I looked around the room but not at him until he actually started his real speech.

"Okay, I need to get on topic. That's something I've had trouble with since my early teens. I had a really hard time in school because I have ADHD. A lot of people think this is something that only children deal with, but really it is evident in almost ten million adults, including myself. It's a real problem and if not handled properly, can be a huge handicap in life.

"So what is Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder? It is a condition that makes it very difficult for one to focus on anything and can cause one to be impulsive. It can also make one very obsessive and stubborn. For example, I am very set in my beliefs and cannot be swayed to believe viewpoints that oppose mine because of it. I believe, for example, that women are a man's greatest pleasure in life, and that they should be cherished and loved," he said, speaking to the crowd, his eyes occasionally landing on me longer than on any other spot in the crowd. Sweet Jesus. Please don't do this.

"I believe that a man who doesn't show his significant other every day that he loves her, is doing her a disservice and allowing for other men to take over his job. I also believe that if another man does so, the woman is more than permitted, in fact, encouraged, to go to the more affectionate man," he continued on, staring directly at Dylan and me.

I could feel my face growing red. I clenched my jaw and stared absolute daggers at him. If looks could kill, Adam would have been stabbed, beaten and burnt by the glares I was giving him. I thought I would die of embarrassment.

Adam paused, staring at me. I lifted my middle finger to scratch my face as he did so, flicking him off as subtly as I could. He grinned suddenly, and then broke his steady gaze at me. "But I digress. What we're really here for is to help underprivileged children with ADHD. Families who can barely afford food and clothes for their kids cannot be expected to pay for the expensive medication that ADHD requires in order to control the disease. All of you paid to be here tonight, and all of that money is going to pay for underprivileged children in the neighborhoods surrounding Los Angeles to visit a doctor and receive a prescription for their ADHD. Now I'm going to ask you to be a little more generous. We will have people circulating, waiting to collect any money you feel willing to donate to this cause. Thank you in advance, and have a great night everybody," Adam said, gave the crowd one more winning smile, and got off stage.

I turned back around, unable to face Dylan at this point. I dug my checkbook out of my purse, wrote out a check for five hundred dollars, and handed it to Libba. "Would you mind giving this to the collectors for me? I have to run to the bathroom," I said to her.

"Sure," she replied, looking somewhat flabbergasted. Dylan looked up as I walked away from the table with a sense of purpose.

I left the dining room and found the hallway that ran adjacent to it. Down another hallway leading off of that, I found Adam laughing with the emcee.

"Hey, Jenna!" he greeted me loudly as he saw me storming down the hall.

"Adam, can I please speak to you alone?" I demanded, my voice cold and hard.

"Oh, she wants to be alone with me," he said suggestively to the emcee.

"Adam," I snapped.

"See you later, Rick," he said, still laughing as he followed me into a side room. It was a second dining room, but was thankfully empty.

As soon as we were both alone in the room, I turned to face Adam and slapped him with all the force I could muster.

His grin faltered a bit, a look of shock coming over his face, and he put a hand to the cheek I had slapped.

"You insufferable, self-obsessed _asshole_," I snapped, trying to keep my voice low, though it wavered with the effort. "I can't even tell you how angry I am right now. Do you realize that Dylan thinks that I am _fucking_ you because of the way you acted? Do you understand how long it's going to be before I get his trust back?" I demanded, glaring at him as he continued to grin, that dick.

"That was not my intention at all," he said sarcastically. "By the way, you look amazing tonight," he remarked, his voice low as he traced a finger up my waist.

I slapped him again. "Get your hands off of me. You didn't just embarrass me; you humiliated my boyfriend and made everyone else at the table uncomfortable. I never want to see you again. I never want to hear your voice again. I never want anything to do with you ever again. Leave me alone. Quit following me. Just get out of my life."

His face had slowly started to fall until he only wore a weak smile now. "Jenna, come on," he started, but I cut him off.

"I'm serious. Leave me alone," I repeated, turned on my heel and walked away.

Adam followed after me, jogging to keep up with me. "Jenna. Jenna wait," he said, grabbing onto my shoulder as he caught up to me.

He pulled me back and grabbed both of my shoulders so I couldn't move.

"Let go of me," I demanded, glaring angrily at him and trying to twist out of his grasp. He was stronger than I thought.

"Just listen to me. I know he's not treating you like you should be treated. Who would you hurt if you just left him for me? He wouldn't even care. I could treat you so much better than he does," Adam said, staring imploringly at me.

"You don't know anything about him. You don't know anything about our relationship. I'm not leaving him and if I even considered it, which I am _not_, the last person I would go to is you. Now let me go," I snapped, stomped on his foot and broke out of his grasp.

This time he didn't try to follow me. I walked back into the dining room and to our table. "Let's go, Dylan," I said as I approached the table, gathered my coat and purse, said good-bye to Libba and her husband, and took Dylan by the hand, leading him out of the room at my own, quick pace.

"I need my limo now," I told the valet driver waiting outside of the restaurant. He asked for my name and left to get my driver when I told him who I was.

It was a long and awkward ride home. I refused to either mention anything that happened tonight or let go of Dylan's hand until we got out of the limo and into the apartment.

When we got inside, I turned to Dylan and let out a heavy sigh. "Listen, I know what that looked like, but just let me explain everything."

"Oh? Are you ready to tell me something about your life now? I thought you were just going to keep some more apparently important information from me until a stranger confronts me in a crowded restaurant," Dylan snapped, the hurt evident in his voice.

"I am so sorry for that. I can't apologize enough for that. I had no idea he was even going to be there, let alone that he would act like that in public," I explained.

"I had no idea you even fucking knew him," Dylan spat back. "I looked like a fucking idiot, just sitting there getting introduced to fucking _Adam Levine_ by my girlfriend who failed to mention she is apparently pretty tight with him. Not to mention the fact that he was going to start attacking me for something I didn't know I was doing and then made a fucking _speech_ about it in front of all of the important people in this fucking town."

I winced at every profanity that spouted from his mouth, waiting for him to let it all out.

"I am not tight with him," I said quietly and slowly, trying not to anger him any more than I already had.

"Could've fooled me," he retorted. "Why, then, if you two aren't close, does he seem to think that you should leave me for him because he gives you more attention than I do?"

"Just listen to me," I started, my voice still quiet. I explained to him how we met and how we ran into each other at the party. I told him that I had made it very clear from the beginning that I was in a committed relationship and that I wasn't going to leave Dylan for him. I left out the part where we danced and almost kissed and Adam confessed his undying love for me. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it before, but I forgot about it after Layla and Jaden showed up at the bar, and you were asleep when I got back from the party, and it just never came up after," I finished.

Dylan was staring warily at me. A long pause followed and I was beginning to fear he wasn't going to respond at all and that he was still angry with me. "And nothing happened between you two?" he finally said.

"Nothing. I promise," I replied, closing the distance between us.

He sighed heavily. "Okay. Well, if I ever see that fuckface in real life, he's going to get it," he said, smiling as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Oh, you give it to him, baby," I said, grinning at him, leaning into his chest, and kissing him slowly.

He kissed me back roughly, holding me tightly to him and squeezing me all over. That night, I finally got what I wanted – a long night with very little sleep, and reprieve from my Adam-infatuated thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do not own any copyrights for the lyrics to Maroon 5 songs. Those all belong to Adam. I think. They're not mine in any case._

**Chapter 4**

"Here's your mail, Miss Bodnar," Stella, my intern, said to me as she laid my mail on my desk Monday morning.

"Thank you, Stella," I said, finished my work, and didn't give the mail a second thought until lunch. I opened the first two envelopes, one of which led to another assignment that took me the rest of the day to finish. At the end of the day, I stuffed the remaining mail in my purse along with a manuscript I had hoped to finish editing that day, and locked my office behind me.

I knocked on Dylan's office door, confused as to why it was closed in the first place. He usually only closed it when he was having meetings or on the phone with someone important. Maybe he had a last minute phone call to make.

After a minute, the door opened. "Oh, hi Jenna," Dylan said, looking somewhat surprised that it was I who had knocked on his door. His secretary, Melanie, scurried out of the office, fixing her hair as she went. "I was just finishing a few things up."

"Take your time," I replied, still curious as to what Melanie had been doing in here when he had the door closed, but not bothering to argue over it when we had just had a fight so recently. I sat in the chair opposite his desk while he gathered his belongings and got ready to leave.

"Hey, do you want to go to that fro-yo place down the street?" he asked.

"Uh, sure," I said slowly, taken aback by even this small act of spontaneity. Dylan was usually about as spontaneous as a stick.

"I mean, we don't have to. I've just been thinking about what Adam said and thought that maybe we do need to spend some more time together," he said sheepishly.

"Oh, yeah, that's a great idea," I replied, even more surprised that he even mentioned the Adam incident at all. I had secretly vowed to pretend it had never happened for fear that it would reignite the fight from last night (whoa, check out the rhyme wizard over here).

We walked down the street, hand in hand, to the frozen yogurt place, ate our frozen yogurts while we talked about our days, and just enjoyed each other's company. It was kind of a nice break from our daily routine.

Later that night, when I was getting ready to work on the manuscript I had brought home with me, I noticed the mail I hadn't yet opened from earlier.

The envelope on top didn't have a company logo on it and the address was handwritten, an unusual trait of an envelope I received at work. I checked the return address. There was a street address, but no name of the sender, company or otherwise. Very strange.

I opened the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. "_Jenna_," it said. "_I am so sorry about the way I acted last night. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was stupid and spiteful and I feel absolutely terrible for any embarrassment I caused you or your boyfriend. I hope this will make up in a very small way for what I did and said. I regret every word I said, and I hope that you didn't mean everything you told me. Love always, Adam"_

I read the letter over several times, my pulse racing and my hands beginning to shake. I checked the envelope for whatever was supposed to make up for his distasteful behavior and found two tickets to the Maroon 5 concert going on next weekend. My heart really stopped then. They were tickets on the ground level, only a few rows away from the stage.

I didn't want to give in so quickly to such blatant bribery, but honestly, it was sweet of him to send an apology letter at all, especially considering I didn't know anyone who actually sent letters anymore, and the concert tickets were an amazing gift.

I slowly walked out to the living room where Dylan was watching TV, as usual. "Dylan," I said warily.

He turned around to look at me. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Do you want to go to that Maroon 5 concert next weekend?" I asked, my voice still quiet and cautious.

His eyes narrowed. "I thought it was sold out," he remarked.

"It is," I replied, "but apparently Adam feels bad about the way he acted at the dinner. He sent these in the mail today," I explained, handing him the tickets.

Dylan's brow furrowed as he surveyed the tickets. "Holy shit, these are amazing seats," he said.

"I know," I replied quietly, still unsure if Dylan was going to react badly or not.

"How did he get your address?" he asked me.

"I have no idea. It's probably in some phone book somewhere," I guessed.

"Hmm," Dylan muttered, staring at the tickets again. "You know, on second thought, I don't think I really want to see that man in person again. You should take Layla. She loves Maroon 5," he finally answered, handing me the tickets again.

"You won't be mad if I go?" I asked, surprised by this rational, calm reaction.

"Nah, it's a concert. There will be thousands of people there. What can he possibly do?"

The afternoon of the Maroon 5 concert, Layla and I got ready together at her house, jamming out to our favorite Maroon 5 songs. It was so strange to hear these familiar melodies, tracks I had heard hundreds of time in my life, sung by Adam's voice. Was this how Katie Holmes felt when she watched Tom Cruise in movies?

I wore a Maroon 5 t-shirt I had gotten at the first concert I had gone to where they performed and denim short shorts, curling my hair into loose, beachy waves. Layla was dressed similarly, her jet-black hair pulled back into a French braid.

The concert started at six, with a small band I had never heard of that left such an impression on me I can't even remember their name opening for Maroon 5. Our seats really were amazing. The stage had a short strip that came out from the main part of the stage into the audience and our seats were a few rows back from that, and at the very edge of the crowd. I was on the end, in fact.

Right at eight, just as the sun had set, the lights on the stage went out and the crowd went wild, me included. As much as I had come to dislike Adam, good Lord did I love Maroon 5. A drumming started up, followed shortly thereafter by guitar, followed shortly thereafter by keyboard, followed shortly thereafter by an announcer's voice that rumbled through the stadium like the voice of God that said, "Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for MAROON 5!"

The music stopped suddenly, the lights came up to show the drummer, guitarist, bass player, keyboard player, and in the middle of it all, Adam, who sang, "Oh yeah!" and the music started up again, along with a roar of cheers from the audience. Yes, I too screamed like a crazy fan girl as they performed "Misery". Every second of it was just fantastic. There is nothing quite like being surrounded completely by your favorite music.

At the bridge of the song, Adam walked down the center strip of the stage, the one that jutted out to just a few rows ahead of me. As he sang out, "I'm desperate and confused, so far away from you" he stared right at me. I smiled in spite of myself, still dancing, and raised a hand at him in a subtle wave. An enormous grin spread across his face and he winked at me as he finished the verse and then closed his eyes as he sang, "Why do you do what you do to me yeah? Why won't you answer me, answer me, yeah?"

I laughed and cheered as he broke back into the chorus and the band finished the song. This more than made up for the embarrassment of the other night and in fact made me forget I was ever mad at him.

"How are you all doing tonight, Los Angeles?" Adam shouted to the crowd, who screamed back deafeningly in response. "We have a great show for you tonight so get ready to have some fun!" Again, we as a crowd went crazy, screaming at the top of our lungs.

For the first hour of the concert, everything was just fine. They sang all of their newest, popular songs, the band was great, Adam was great, I was just a member of the audience and it was a really fun time.

Partway into the second hour, the band started playing a song called "Last Chance". "I love this song!" I shouted at Layla who laughed at me because I had been saying the same thing at the beginning of every song. This really was one of my favorites though.

The band started up, and as they did, Adam came to the edge of the jutting strip of the stage, bobbing his head to the music. He turned and stared directly at me as he started to sing, "I'm sure that he could give you everything. Stability and diamond rings are the things I do not have. I understand you can't handle that."

My face went red and I found myself laughing uncontrollably as Layla elbowed me and giggled.

"But for everything that I lack, I provide something you almost have – hot flesh that you yearn to grab, pit of your stomach you're still so sad oh!" My jaw dropped at these forward words that he sang directly at me, but I continued laughing, shocked by the unlikeliness of it all.

He dropped to his knees and sang, "Ooh! Whatcha gonna do? I'm in love with you. Don't you wanna dance? This may be the last chance that I get to love you, ooh-ooh-ooh."

I shook my head at him, still smiling, as he got back up to his feet and continued the song. "Out of sight, not out of mind. You want the world, I'll give you mine cuz you're the girl I'll never find, and I'm the boy you've left behind," Adam sang, giving me a sad face. At this point, people were realizing that he was singing to only one part of the audience and were starting to stare at me. My face just got redder and redder as this song went on. "I know you think you're satisfied, and God knows how hard we tried, but if you showed up at my door, I could give you so much more, oh!" I laughed again as he winked at me while he sang this and bent down low to the stage again as he repeated the chorus.

"Oh, you sure don't make it easy to get myself to safety," he sang, shaking his head at me, "You tell me that I'm crazy, but you're the one who makes me this way." He was coming down the steps leading off of the strip of stage now and walking up to me. What was going on? "You call me so impulsive," he sang as he took my hand and jogged back to the stage, me running along behind him, my body numb, my mind blank. "But that's what makes us so explosive!" he sang while we ran onstage, turning back to smile at me and winking as he did so.

"So as I burn these photographs," he sang, staring at me, still holding my hand, and backing up the strip of stage. "I wonder if you kept the ones you have. Keep em locked up somewhere safe cuz it's the only place you'll see my face!" He stopped backing up at this point as we had reached the main part of the stage and leaned down to sing this last line right in my face and I burst out laughing. I gripped onto his hand for dear life, scared to have such bright lights beaming down on me and so many thousands of people staring at me, so I focused instead on the one thing I knew, which just happened to be Adam's face.

"Ooh! Whatcha gonna do?" Adam spun me out so that our hands were linked but we were both facing the audience. I still kept my eyes focused on him. "I'm in love with you." He brought my hand to his mouth. "Don't you wanna dance?" he spun me around and into him so that my back was against his chest, his arm keeping me pinned to his body, and his other hand holding the microphone up to his mouth. He pressed his face up against mine as he continued to sing, grinding on me onstage in front of thousands of people. "This may be the last chance that I get to love you, ooh-ooh-ooh. Ooh! What am I gonna do? I don't like to lose. You're not making sense. Cuz this may be the last chance that you get to love me, oooh," he sang, spun me out again, let go of my hand so that he could put his arm around my waist, pulled me close to his side and sang as we walked back down the jutting out strip of stage, "This may be the last chance that I get to love you ooh-ooh-ooh. To love you, yeah!" He closed his eyes as he belted out the last note, the crowd still cheering like crazy when he finished. They probably thought I knew what I was doing and this was all part of the show. Ha. Ha. Ha ha.

As the crowd continued to cheer, Adam held the microphone away from his face, leaned over and said into my ear, "Hey, come see me backstage after the show is over."

"I don't know how to get there," I told him.

"Just go to the stage door on the outside of the stadium and tell the guard who you are. I'll tell him to let you in," he said.

I didn't respond and he pulled back from my ear to look me in the eye. "Okay?" he asked, staring intently at me and nodding.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine!" I complied. He grinned broadly, kissed me quickly on the cheek, and let go of my waist. I hurried back to my seat, my face red, my legs shaking. Good God, 98% of the audience was going to want to punch me now for the special attention I had just received.

"Oh my God, Jenna! What was that?" Layla demanded as I got back to my seat.

"I have no idea!" I replied, laughing uncontrollably, not because I thought it was funny but because when I get nervous or when I'm in an awkward situation, I just start to laugh.

"Why do you think he chose you to bring onstage?" she persisted.

I was about to tell her I had no idea, but they started singing "She Will be Loved" just then and my words were not audible over the cheers of the crowd.

For the rest of the concert, I told Layla in between songs about what had happened between Adam and me thus far, leaving out those details that, if they got back to Dylan, would upset him. Thankfully, Adam stopped making it quite so obvious that he was singing certain songs to me, but still looked over at me several times while he was singing. Layla thought the whole thing was fantastic and she wanted to come backstage with me after the concert, but understood that she really couldn't. We had come in her car, but I told her she could leave without me.

A few song sets later, the concert was over and the crowd turned into a stampede, everybody trying to get out of the same doors at the same time. It took me almost ten minutes just to get out of the stadium, and then another five after I left Layla to find the stage door. A bulky black man was standing by the door, trying to keep the line that was forming by the door to stand down.

I pushed my way to the front of the crowd and said, "Excuse me," to the guard.

"Listen, lady, you're going to have to wait in line like everybody else," he said.

"You're probably not going to believe this, but Adam told me to come see him after the concert was over. He said he would tell you to let me in. My name is Jenna Bodnar," I explained, feeling stupider and stupider as I talked. I sounded like a psycho stalker fan.

"Miss, I can't let you backstage. I don't care who you are," he replied.

"I understand, but Adam told me to come back here," I insisted.

"Adam? Adam Levine? Adam Levine told you to come back here?" he repeated and laughed. "You know, you might be surprised to hear this, but you are not the first person to try that trick on me. He will be out soon enough along with the rest of the band, you just need to wait."

"Hey!" the woman next to me exclaimed suddenly. "Aren't you the girl Adam brought onstage? How did you get to do that?" she asked me.

"Wait a second," the guard said. "You _are_ the girl he brought onstage!"

I nodded, smiling in exasperation.

"Hold on one second," he told me, said something into his walkie talkie, and said, "Okay Jenna, come on in."

He opened the door for me and pushed back the crowd of people who tried to get past him to follow me backstage.

Once the door closed, I could still hear the roar of the crowd waiting behind it, but it was now a muffled lull. I was in a long, dimly lit hallway. I had no idea what to do or where to go, so I just started walking.

No sooner had I taken a few steps than Adam himself came out of one of the doors leading off of the hallway. "Hey!" he said, his face lighting up when he saw me. I couldn't help but smile back. It had been a long time since I had seen a reaction like that to my presence and it felt kind of great.

"Hey," I said, sounding much calmer than I felt.

"Here, come with me." He put his arm around my waist and I was so numb I didn't even react. We walked back into the room that he had just come out of and he closed the door behind us. It was a pretty small room, with just a mirror, a chair in front of it, a couch, and various articles of clothing, makeup, and instruments strewn throughout. This must be his dressing room.

"So what did you think of the concert?" he asked me, still smiling as he surveyed my face.

"It was fantastic. You really know how to put on a show," I replied, the first part sincere and the second part slightly sarcastic.

He laughed. "How did you like your few minutes of fame?"

I rolled my eyes. "I could have killed you. That was absolutely humiliating," I said, smiling in spite of myself and he laughed again.

"Nah, come on, the crowd loved it," he said.

"The crowd thought it was rehearsed," I pointed out. "What exactly inspired you to do that?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess you could call me impulsive," he replied, grinning.

"Well that's what makes you so explosive," I played along, batting my eyes at him jokingly and he laughed.

"So why did you ask me to come back here?" I asked.

"Because I knew you couldn't say no with sixty thousand people watching you," he replied, grinning that beautiful but annoying grin as he said it. "And I wanted to talk to you one-on-one to invite you to our after-concert party."

I raised my eyebrows at that. "After-concert party?" I repeated.

"Yeah. It's really impressive. The guys and I all go back to my place and play poker and eat pizza," he explained and I laughed.

"Don't you think I'll be intruding if I come? Will the other guys get upset?" I pointed out, still smiling at him just because I loved the way he stared at me.

"Psshh," he scoffed. "They'll be fine."

I laughed again shortly, sighed in mock exasperation, and said, "Well all right, if you insist."

He grinned broadly at me and said, "Good. I was hoping I wouldn't have to ask you in front of a crowd of sixty thousand screaming fans."

I laughed again and rolled my eyes. "You're crazy," I said.

"Hey, you're the one that makes me this way," he replied easily, grinning at me.

We just stood there smiling at each other for a moment until I got to be uncomfortable and didn't know what to say. I broke our eye contact, cleared my throat and glanced around the room, looking for conversation topics. "Shouldn't you go sign some autographs? Your fans are waiting for you," I reminded him.

He took a step closer to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. "They can wait. Why would I want to waste the time I have with you signing autographs?" he said, his voice going lower and softer and his face coming closer.

"Because they're your fans and they paid a lot of money to be here tonight. And because I still have a boyfriend and shouldn't even really be here right now," I replied evenly, my voice at a normal volume. I tried to back away from him as I said this and at first he resisted, but at my words he loosened his grip and I took a step backwards.

He sighed heavily and dropped his head onto his arms. "Yeah, I know," he muttered as he sat down on the couch.

"Hey," I said, sitting next to him and bumped my knee against his. "Don't be grumpy." He still wasn't looking at me so I put a finger under his chin and turned it towards me. I was about to speak, but caught my breath when his eyes met mine. There was such sadness in those green eyes, and you know he just never gets any less handsome. For a second I imagined myself closing that small distance between our faces, erasing the sadness in his eyes and kissing him, but then I snapped myself back into reality, gave my head a quick shake, and said, "You should go say hi to your fans."

He stared at me for a minute, an odd look in his eyes, and moved closer to me, clearly about to kiss me, until I very blatantly pulled my head back. He sighed again, then stood up and said, "Okay, well, come on."

"What?" I asked blankly.

"Come on," he repeated as if I were being stupid and should know to follow him.

"I can't go out there," I said.

"Why not?" he asked, getting impatient.

"What am I going to do? I don't have fans. I can't sign autographs," I pointed out.

"Just stand with me and look pretty. It'll be easy for you," he replied.

"Just stand there with you? Don't you think that will look strange and people will say something?" I asked.

"Listen, you have two options. You can come outside, stand with me while I sign autographs for my fans, and forget about what people will say, or you can let what other people think control your life, stay here, and find your own way home," he said.

I made no response but stood up and followed him out the door, back into the narrow hallway, and outside to the crowd of screaming fans. As soon as we walked outside, I reached for his hand without thinking about what I was doing. He turned to look at me in surprise, an eyebrow raised, but intertwined his fingers with mine, gave my hand a quick squeeze, and didn't say anything.

The other members of the band were already outside and had almost made it to the end of the line of fans by the time we got there. Adam signed everything that was presented to him, and took so many pictures I'm sure his face ached from smiling. All the while he continued to hold my hand. He didn't let go once. I know it sounds stupid but all I could think of was that day I tried to hold Dylan's hand on the way into work and the way that after we separated he didn't try to get my hand back.

I did receive quite a few stares from many fans, most of them travelling from Adam to me to our hands and then back to me, glaring this time. I just smiled back and gave Adam's hand an extra squeeze. A few people asked me what I was doing with Adam and I always replied, "I'm standing with him." I know that's a dumb response, but that was as much as anyone was going to get. No one asked if we were dating, mostly because I think they were afraid to hear the answer might be yes.

Adam was not asked any questions about me because by the time he turned his attention to them, the last thing they wanted was to ask him about another woman. I have to admit, there was something immensely satisfying about seeing how desperately these girls sought his attention and knowing how easily I was able to get that attention, whether I was trying or not.

When we got to the end of the line, Adam turned around to wave at his fans one last time, and then walked with me to the back of the building where I suppose his car was parked. The rest of the band walked with us as well, and as we started to the parking lot, one of them, a guy with long dark hair, turned and smiled at me.

"Hi! I'm Jenna," I introduced myself, offering him the hand that wasn't still holding Adam's.

"I'm Matt," he replied.

"It's nice to meet you. You were amazing. All of you were," I said emphatically.

He shrugged. "It's just what we do," he replied easily and I laughed.

"Adam, aren't you going to introduce us to your girlfriend?" a different one with shoulder-length, dirty blond hair said from Adam's other side.

"Oh, I'm not his girlfriend," I corrected him. "My name's Jenna."

The man looked down at our linked hands, then back up at me with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, Jenna," he said disbelievingly and I felt my face go red. I slowly pried my fingers out of Adam's, ignoring when he looked down at me in surprise.

He stared at me for a moment, and when I finally looked up at him, I gave him a 'really? You know I can't do this' look despite the disappointed look on his face. "Guys, this is Jenna," he said. "Jenna this is Matt," he pointed to the man I'd already met, who waved and smiled at me again. "Mickey," he pointed at a man with dirty blonde hair and a blank expression who waved once at me and went back into whatever world he was living in. "James," he pointed at the guy with the long blonde hair who had asked for the introduction in the first place. "And that's PJ," he said, gesturing towards a smiling African American man.

"Nice to meet you, Jenna," PJ said, smiling mildly at me as he shook my hand.

"Nice to meet you," I replied, grinning just because his smile was contagious.

We had reached the parking lot and Adam stopped next to a little black motorcycle. Dear God.

"See you guys at my place!" he called to his band mates as they all walked to their own cars and/or motorcycles.

He turned to me at this point and handed me a helmet. "This may be a dumb question to ask," I said as I took the helmet, "but was this motorcycle designed to have two people ride it?" I asked, staring at the tiny vehicle uncertainly.

Adam made a face. "Well, I mean, maybe not specifically two people," he answered vaguely, "but rules were made to be broken. Go ahead, put that on," he told me, gesturing at the helmet.

"Where's yours?" I asked.

"Right here," he said, putting his hands out as if he were holding an invisible helmet and 'put it on'.

I just stared at him unsmiling, still holding the helmet.

"I'll be fine," he said.

I continued to stare at him until he sighed, took the helmet out of my hands and shoved it on my head. He flipped the visor down over my eyes once it was on, buckled the chinstrap, and said, "You should be a helmet model."

I laughed at this and broke my stare with him. He pulled a pair of goggles out of the pocket of his leather jacket and put them on. Oh good, if we got into an accident, at least his eyes would be safe. He got on the bike and scooted forward as far as he could.

"Hop on," he said, patting the small amount of seat behind him. I gave him a frightened look, my eyes wide and my eyebrows raised, but I don't think he could tell through the helmet. I prayed in my head that we wouldn't die and God wouldn't punish me for being so stupid, and swung my leg over the bike.

The seat was somewhat larger than it looked, and my butt only hung off of it a little bit. I slid myself as far forward as I could, my crotch pressed up hard against Adam's butt, and wrapped my arms tightly around his torso.

"Are you ready?" he asked me.

"Where should I put my feet?" I asked.

"Just put them on top of mine when we get going," he replied.

"Okay," I said, getting more and more nervous about this.

"Ready?" he asked again.

"Yeah," I said before I could convince myself to back out, and he turned the key. The motorcycle roared into life and started vibrating. Good God, I was going to die. He revved the engine a few times for whose enjoyment I'm not really sure, but didn't start moving until I shouted, "Just go!" in his ear.

He looked like he was laughing as he got the bike going, driving a bit faster than I would have preferred. I squealed, holding onto him even tighter than before, and put my feet on top of his boots, my legs laced around his.

I have to admit, after the first few terrifying minutes, it was mostly just exhilarating and so much fun. It felt like we were flying through the night.

Everything was great until we got to a stoplight. Like I said, I was wearing short shorts, and was wrapped somewhat provocatively around Adam, so those shorts were riding up a little. It was almost an em-bare-ass-ing situation, if you know what I mean. WINK.

Anyway, a car next to us rolled down its windows and the men inside started yelling rude things out the window like, "Hey sexy lady", "Do you want to wrap your legs around my face like that?" and "Give me head, girl". It was revolting.

Unfortunately Adam thought so too. "Hey, go fuck yourself," he shouted over at them, flicking them off.

"Oh look at brave boy over here," the driver said while his friends guffawed.

"Just ignore them. Ignore them," I said as quietly as I could over the roar of the motorcycle.

"No," he said back to me, "They're being disrespectful to you. They need to apologize," he demanded.

"You wanna fight, pretty boy?" the guy in the passenger's seat shouted.

"No, Adam, let's not fight. Let's not," I said, my voice growing louder, and my grip tightening on him as he stood up from the bike until I just had my arms wrapped around the tops of his legs.

The guy in the other car looked like he was getting ready to get out of his car too.

"Look, the light's green! We should go," I pointed out, then seeing no other solution, shouted, "Hey, we'll race you losers!" at the car.

"The stupid cunt wants to race us!" the guy in the back shouted to the guys in the front, just in case they didn't hear me.

"You're on, pussy!" the driver shouted and peeled out.

Adam sat back down and turned to look at me. "What are you doing? They're definitely going to win now!" he said indignantly.

"I just wanted them to go away. I didn't actually want to race them," I said. Duh. He should be thanking me.

"I should've beaten their asses. Dickheads," he muttered, and took off his jacket. "Here, put this on. I don't want any other guys looking at you like that," he said, clearly still pretty pissed as he handed me his jacket.

I didn't point out that he really didn't have to worry about it since he wasn't my boyfriend and that it was my legs they were looking at, not my top, so the coat wasn't really going to help, but I didn't want to argue the point, so I just put the jacket on and wrapped my arms around Adam, leaning my head on his back, although it was kind of awkward with the bulky helmet on.

Turns out that stoplight was only a few miles away from Adam's house, and before I knew it, we were in his driveway.

When we stopped, I took the helmet off and gave it back to him. "Thanks," I said as he took it. He put it on the seat of the bike and didn't respond, but started walking towards the front door.

"Adam," I said in exasperation.

He stopped, turned around, and stared at me with a pretty pissed look still on his face, his jaw set.

I walked up to him and said, "Hey, chill out. What happened back there was not a big deal."

"I'm not going to chill out! I'm not just going to let some assholes treat you like a piece of meat and not do anything about it," he retorted, his voice raised.

"Oh for crying out loud, Adam, they were probably high or something. And you don't _have_ to do anything about it because you're not my boyfriend," I pointed out. I know I sounded like a bitch and it was terrible of me to point that out, but really, he needed to realize exactly where he stood.

"Well once again, your wonder boyfriend wasn't here, so I had to make sure you were safe. I'm sorry that I love you and don't want anything to happen to you," he snapped back, concern evident in his eyes behind the ire.

I stopped for a minute, giving him a 'thanks-but-I-don't-need-this' look. "That's really sweet of you, Adam, but I can handle myself," I said quietly and he let out a quick, mirthless laugh, shaking his head. "I care about you too and I don't want you to get hurt or arrested or something because you're fighting some douchebags for me."

He made no response to this, just continued shaking his head and staring at the ground.

I waited a minute, but finally said, "Come on, let's go play some poker." I took his hand in mine and smiled up at him. He didn't look at me, but laced his fingers with mine and walked to the front door with me.

As soon as we walked in, the guys let out a series of curses, cheers and laughter.

"That will be a hundred bucks from each of you," Matt said, collecting money from every one of the other guys sitting around the circular table across the room from the front door.

Before I could figure out exactly what bet Adam and I had just confirmed, a blonde streak of fur raced across the room and jumped up at me. The golden retriever put his paws on my shoulders and started licking my face fervently as if I were his best friend. I pulled my head back so he wasn't licking my mouth and laughed. "Hello, puppy," I said, my voice automatically converting to the deep, moronic voice I use around dogs. "Oh thank you, thank you for the kisses," I said.

"Figures, my dog gets luckier than I do within five seconds of meeting you," Adam remarked, but when I looked at him, he was smiling, an unmistakable fondness for the dog evident in his eyes.

"Jealousy isn't a pretty emotion, Adam," I responded, grinning playfully at him.

"That's enough, Frankie, get off of her and come say hello to me," he told the dog, who immediately dropped back to the floor at these words, and replaced his paws on Adam's shoulders, covering his face in sloppy, wet doggy kisses.

After Frankie finished greeting both of us, Adam offered me a drink and went into the kitchen to get a beer for both of us when I asked for it. Normally I don't particularly care for the taste of beer, but it just seemed like the thing to drink at a boys' night.

I walked over to the table where the guys were all seated. "Okay, so what was the bet?" I asked, shoving my hands in my back pockets and grinning at them.

"Well there were multiple levels to it," Matt explained. "There was the travel time, both from the stadium to here and from the driveway to the front door, then there was the jacket and the hands bet."

"What were those last two?" I asked.

"If he would have given you his leather jacket and if you two would be holding hands or if his arm would be around your waist when you two walked in," James said.

"And what did you guess?" I asked Matt.

"I said it would be 11:30 when you got in the driveway, 11:45 when you came in, not wearing the leather jacket, and holding hands," he replied.

"Still can't believe of all the ones you missed it was the jacket," James remarked, shaking his head. "That was the easiest one."

"Are you shitting me? Adam loves that jacket. He never let anyone else wear it before," Matt pointed out. I turned around to raise a surprised eyebrow at Adam, but his back was to me as he was filling up Frankie's water bowl.

"Was it really fifteen minutes before we came in?" I piped up in the middle of James and Matt's argument.

"Well, eleven, but everyone else guessed ten and we always round up for bets, so since I was over ten, I got it right," Matt said.

"I still say that's bullshit," PJ piped up.

It didn't really make a lot of sense to me either, but Adam showed up at that point, handing me a bottle of beer, and casually draping an arm around my waist. I stared pointedly at him as I stepped out of his embrace. "Thanks," I said as I took the beer.

"No problem," he replied, shoving the hand that was around my waist in his pocket. "Are you bitches ready to get your asses kicked?" he shouted, turning to the guys who hooted and hollered.

Adam pulled out the only empty chair for me, but I didn't sit down until he came back with an extra chair and sat down next to me.

"Jenna, do you know how to play poker?" PJ asked.

"Psh, are you kidding? I'm a boss at poker," I came back smoothly, making everyone laugh.

"Ooh, a sassy one," James remarked, grinning at me, "I like this girl, Adam. You should date her."

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm trying, man," Adam said, smiling at me and draping his arm across the back of my chair.

I smiled back at him briefly, then said, "Is someone going to deal or not?"

There was another round of shouts and laughter, and Mickey dealt out our cards.

Here's the thing – when I say I'm great at something, it's usually just me being sarcastic because I actually suck at that thing. Poker is no exception. I always lose at poker. However, tonight I somehow managed to get lucky in the first round, and won.

"Shit, man, she even beat you, Adam!" James pointed out when I collected everyone else's tokens and Mickey reshuffled the deck.

"No one's beaten Adam in even a single round since, what, Atlanta of _Hands All Over_?" Matt asked.

"Damn straight," Adam replied proudly.

"And the first time he gets beaten, it's by a girl who isn't his girlfriend. Karma is a bitch," James remarked, grinning evilly and I laughed.

"What can I say? I played a lot of poker in college," I said, grinning. They would see just how bad I was in the next round when I lost.

Somehow, by some inexplicable force in the universe, I won the next three rounds. By the time we got to the all-or-nothing round, the guys were being significantly less good-natured about it, although they seemed to be enjoying Adam's losing streak immensely.

During the last round, I managed to accidentally steal a glance at Adam's hand. He had a royal flush. I was going to lose this round. I had four of a kind, a good hand, but not better than a royal flush. However, the next time the stakes were raised, Adam folded. I turned to him in surprise.

"You're folding?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Really?" I insisted.

He nodded.

That bastard. He had been letting me win this whole time.

I won again that round, and the guys all left the table in disgust until it was just Adam and me left, his arm still draped across the back of my chair, our chairs still close, and so our faces still close when we turned to talk to each other.

"I know what you did," I said quietly to him.

"Yeah, I got beat by a girl," he replied, smiling at me.

"Only because you let me win," I added softly.

"You obviously don't understand how competitive I am. I would never let anybody win," he scoffed.

I gave him an I'm-not-buying-your-bullshit stare and said, "You had a royal flush in the last round and you folded. Nothing beats royal flush. You let me win."

"You looked at my hand?!" he gasped in mock shock and I laughed.

"Why'd you do it?" I asked.

"So the guys would like you more. They don't like losing but they love to see me lose," he replied.

I grinned and laughed. "Thanks," I murmured.

"You're welcome," he said so low his voice was barely audible. I could feel his hand on the back of my chair absent-mindedly playing with my hair and it sent a quick shiver down my spine.

His face was getting closer to mine and I was starting to forget there was anyone named Dylan in my life. I would have just given in to the temptation had James not run into the room and shouted, "Let's go swimming!"

He tore his shirt off, flung it across the room and ran outside to the balcony, followed shortly thereafter by shirtless Mickey, Matt and PJ, as well as Frankie, tail wagging in excitement at the sight of so much excitement.

Adam and I laughed and I stood up. "Come on, let's go swimming!" I said, grabbed his hand, and pulled him outside with me. There were steps leading off of the balcony that led down to the pool.

The other guys were already in the pool, wearing only their jeans. Adam stripped off his shirt and threw it in a corner. I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped and I may have drooled at the sight of Adam's nicely sculpted body. Whew baby. I suddenly remembered myself and closed my mouth, shaking my head quickly, hoping Adam hadn't seen that. I looked up at his face. He was grinning devilishly. He had seen.

Rather than saying anything about it, however, he simply scooped me up in those muscly arms and jumped into the pool, me screaming and him shouting.

"Let's play chicken!" James shouted when we got into the pool.

"We only have one girl," Matt pointed out.

"No, we have Jenna, Mickey and you," James replied to which Matt and Mickey both flicked him off.

It was soon decided that Mickey and Matt would both act as girls, even though they were clearly men, and James, PJ and Adam would be the 'men'.

Adam sank down in the water in front of me so I could sit on his shoulders. I grabbed his hair and wrapped my legs around his chest to keep my balance as he stood up and I got used to the sensation of being seated almost five feet and eleven inches above the water. He grabbed onto my legs, and I wasn't sure if it was to keep me steady or just to grab my legs. I was guessing it was the second one.

It was much funnier to watch Matt and Mickey climb on top of James and PJ. As soon as they stood up, Adam charged James and I was laughing so hard I couldn't even fight.

I've never been a big fan of chicken, but it was the most fun I had had in a _long_ time, sitting on top of Adam's shoulders and wrestling the band members of Maroon 5. Seriously, surreal doesn't even begin to describe how it felt.

Eventually, we all had had enough of chicken and were getting cold, so we got out of the pool and went back inside.

"Do you want one of my t-shirts or something?" Adam asked me, seeing me shiver from the now cold water that completely soaked my clothes.

"Um," I said, thinking about which would be worse – coming home in soaked clothes or in someone else's clothes? "No thanks, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" he asked and I nodded fervently, trying to keep my teeth from chattering. "Do you at least want a towel?"

"Yes!"

He came back a minute later with the warmest, fluffiest towel in the world. I wrapped it around myself, closed my eyes and smiled.

When I opened my eyes, I suddenly caught sight of the time. It was nearly 2:00 in the morning. "Holy shit!" I shouted, dropping the towel and searching frantically for my purse and shoes.

Adam had been in the kitchen getting another beer and ran out to the living room, where I was standing. "What's wrong?" he asked, looking worried.

"I need to go home! It's almost 2:00!" I exclaimed, not really sure why I was still shouting. I found my purse at that point and dug my phone out of it. There were three missed calls and two text messages. "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit," I muttered, opening the messages, both, obviously, from Dylan.

The first said, "Hey, when are you coming home?"

The second said, "Since you aren't picking up your phone, I'm guessing you're okay and you are sleeping over Layla's house tonight."

"Who assumes everything is okay when they don't get a response?" Adam said incredulously.

I jumped about five feet in the air. I hadn't realized he had been standing directly behind me and reading the message over my shoulder.

"Why are you reading my text messages?" I asked defensively.

"I'm curious," he replied.

I smacked him lightly and started typing out a message that said, "I'm on my way home now. See you soon."

"Hey, I should give you my number," Adam suggested.

"Why?" I asked, looking at him suspiciously.

"Just in case you ever need anything. Or just want to call me," he said, giving me a winning smile. I laughed.

"Okay, what's your number?"

He took the phone, put his number in, and handed it back to me.

"Can you take me home please? Preferably in a car?" I asked.

"Do you have to go home? He already thinks you're sleeping over your friend's house," Adam pointed out.

"I just told him I'm coming home," I reminded him.

He sighed heavily. "Ok, fine," he finally said. "Come on."

"It was nice meeting all of you guys," I called to the band as Adam and I walked out the door.

They called back with a series of good-byes.

We got into Adam's old-fashioned car. I have no idea what kind it was. It was the old kind. As we drove away from his house, Adam reached over and took my hand. "I'm really glad you came to our after party," he said softly, squeezing my hand.

"Me too, that was fun," I replied, smiling at him.

He smiled back at me and turned back to the road. "I have no idea where you live," he said after a moment of silence.

I burst out laughing, partially because it struck me as funny that he waited until we were several miles down the road to point this out, and partially because it was late and I get giddy late at night. After a while, Adam started laughing at me laughing and said, "What? Seriously, where do you live?"

When I finally caught my breath, I gave him general directions to my house.

"Well, it looks like we're going to have to take the long way," he said when I finished. "We are driving in the complete wrong direction."

I chuckled for a minute or two more after I finally settled down and then let out a big breath. "God, I haven't laughed so much in one day since… I can't remember when," I confessed.

Adam was silent for a second, started to speak a few times but thought better of it, and then finally said, "Jenna, please don't get mad at me for saying this, but I just have to know. Why are you so committed to that guy?"

The smile immediately fell from my face. "Adam," I started in an irritated tone, but he cut me off.

"No, I'm serious. I just want to know. What makes him so special? I'm just thinking you two aren't that intimate, when you are together he doesn't even hold your hand, he doesn't make you laugh, he isn't concerned about you when you don't come home or answer his calls – why are you still with him?" he asked in a sincerely confused voice.

I sighed heavily. "He makes me happy in different ways. We've been together for so long, he is the only familiar thing to me in this town, and I just need some kind of consistency in my life," I finally replied.

More silence ensued.

"Adam, listen to me," I said in the kindest voice I could muster. We were at a stop light, so he turned to look at me, an intense pain in his eyes. "You are an amazing man. You don't need me to tell you that. You are fun to be with and talented and charming, and I enjoy spending time with you. I just don't want to give you any false hopes. I am dating Dylan. That is just the way it is," I said.

He stared at me for a long, seemingly eternal moment.

"Why don't you just find another girl? There are plenty of them around here, and I'm sure they would all love to have a boyfriend as loving and handsome as you. Don't waste your time on me," I suggested, disagreeing with my own words as they came out of my mouth. Who was I kidding? I loved his attention. I didn't want to share it with anyone else.

He smiled sadly and shook his head. "I don't think a single second spent with you is a second wasted," he finally replied. "I love you, Jenna."

I'm not going to lie to you, that sent up a wave of butterflies in my stomach. I couldn't think of a way to respond to that, and the light turned green, so he turned back to the road and continued driving, holding my hand all the while, absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb back and forth on the back of my hand.

The rest of the car ride was silent. When we finally pulled up to my apartment building, I was ready for it to be over.

"Thank you for such a fun night, Adam," I said as I gathered my purse and got out my keys. "I'm sure I'll see you again sometime soon."

He smiled weakly and couldn't quite meet my eyes. "I'm glad you had fun," he replied softly, giving my hand one last squeeze and a kiss before he let go of it.

I opened the door and got out of the car. "Good night," I said.

"Night, Jenna," he replied and I closed the door, turned around and went inside, my hand tingling where he kissed it all the while.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I had never imagined that I would ever be a Youtube sensation. It was not a comfortable feeling, I will tell you that.

Apparently someone right across from me at the concert had been filming it and caught the whole "Last Chance" performance on video. I wouldn't have even known about that had Layla not come up to me in work the Monday after the concert with an evil grin on her face.

"What is that look for?" I asked suspiciously.

"Have you been on Youtube recently?" she replied, making me even more nervous.

"No. Why?" I said slowly.

"You, my dear, are a viral video," she told me, grinning widely.

"Are you shitting me?" I asked, my voice completely void of emotion, my mind going crazy.

"Look for yourself," she said, gesturing towards my computer.

I opened Youtube and saw under the 'most watched' videos, my own lovely face, jaw dropped and about to laugh as Adam sang into my face onstage.

"Good God," I muttered and grimaced as I clicked on the video, afraid to watch it.

It started right as Adam came off the stage towards me and took my hand. The video zoomed in on my face as Adam approached me and led me onstage. My eyes were wide and I looked completely flabbergasted, but started laughing as we ran onstage. When I got onstage, I hadn't realized that I had been strutting – STRUTTING – as Adam backed up and I walked with him to the main part of the stage. When he sang into my face the line about the only place I'd see his face, my jaw dropped and my eyes went wide, but I continued laughing. He spun me out and I just continued to look at him, a huge smile on my face. When he spun me back in and started grinding on me, his face pressed against mine, I smiled sweetly, my eyes looking down at our linked hands and nowhere else. He spun me back out and put his arm around my waist and we strutted back down the jutting out part of stage. I continued to just stare at him, grinning and laughing the whole time. And _then_ when the song was over and he talked in my ear, the smile never left my face. Even when he kissed my cheek, I just rolled my eyes, still grinning, and got off stage. Holy shit. That looked rehearsed. I looked like I knew what I was doing and I was perfectly comfortable onstage. SUCH LIES.

When the video ended, I turned to Layla, my eyes wide.

"Girl, you looked like a pro up there," she finally said after we stared at each other in silence for a moment.

"How did that happen?" I whispered, shaking my head in confusion.

"Read the comments," Layla told me, pointing back at the computer. I scrolled down and looked at the comments.

The first one just said, 'lucky girl'.

The next said, 'Damn, I wish I could be that girl. You know, it's weird, I've seen Maroon 5 perform this song five different times and they never did this before."

The next said, "Shit, the girl's good. She owns that stage. Where do I find me one of those?"

I laughed incredulously at all of these comments. "Oh my God!" I said quietly. "I can't believe this."

"Did you read this one?" Layla asked, pointing to one at the bottom of the page.

It said, "That's so weird, that girl looks just like Jenna Bodnar, the author of that book about the garden."

I laughed loudly at the irony of that comment. "Wow. Just wow. Does Dylan know about this yet?" I asked.

"You would know better than I would," she said. "So what happened after you went backstage? Fill me in, girl!"

I told her that he invited me to his after-party and that we just hung out, played poker and went swimming, and then he took me home. Once again, I left out the details about the near-fight and the love confession.

"What did Dylan think about all of this?" she asked.

"He was asleep when I got home and the next morning he didn't even ask me about it. He just asked me how the concert was, and that was it. It was like he expected me to be out until two in the morning," I replied incredulously. I still didn't understand how I got so lucky with not having to come up with an alibi, but I just kind of embraced it.

"Hmm, well, at least you didn't have to tell him," she said. "I need to get back to work. See you later, you little Internet sensation."

I rolled my eyes and made a face, but went back to work.

The next week went on just as normally as every other week of my life. Nothing extraordinary happened. No one recognized me from the Youtube video in real life, thank goodness. Dylan didn't watch it (maybe because I purposely kept him away from it, maybe because he just isn't all that into Youtube), and nobody else said a word about it. There may or may not have been a reference to the incident on SNL, but I just laughed along and pretended like I had no idea what they were talking about.

Actually, the next month of my life was pretty boring. I didn't run into Adam again for that month. Dylan and I were at the same spot in our relationship we had been before the concert. And I was beginning to forget about Adam altogether as a sense of normalcy settled around me again.

I should have savored that normalcy while it lasted because my world was soon to be turned upside down once more.

After I moved out of my house when I got my first job and started supporting myself, I gave up on expecting extravagant birthdays or even special ones. My birthday was just another day in the year on which my family called and sang to me, a few people sent me cards and, if I was lucky, I got some cake.

So when my birthday came around this year, I expected nothing more. And to be honest, that birthday pretty much lived up to my expectations. If anything, I would say the day I turned twenty-six was worse than most days.

The day part was fine and normal and good. Layla brought in cupcakes to work and a few people even stopped by my office to say happy birthday. How sweet. I got the usual call from the family when I got home that night, and spent a while talking to my mom, dad and brothers. Dylan took me out to a seafood restaurant as a special treat, because you know I just love seafood (in case anyone didn't catch that, it was sarcasm). But even that wasn't so bad.

When we got home that night, I was in my closet getting changed into my nightgown when Dylan came into the room and just started pulling my dress off of me.

I turned around in surprise. "Yes, sure I'll have some birthday sex. How nice of you to offer," I said blankly.

Dylan wasn't laughing. His face was completely serious, a burning desire in his eyes that scared me a little bit. Upon further inspection, he was also completely naked and had a massive boner. How attractive.

I didn't even know where to go from here. This was the least romantic approach anyone had ever tried on me. And trust me, I've got some good stories. I didn't feel like kissing him at this point, and I honestly was not turned on at all. If anything, I was kind of disgusted and that seafood that I didn't want in the first place was making my stomach feel gross.

"We should try something new," Dylan said after we stared at each other awkwardly for a minute in silence, him completely naked, me half naked, in my closet.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked. Good God, even after two years of an active sex life, I still hated talking about it.

"You should blow me," he said.

I very well may have made a face. I had never blown anybody before and honestly I thought it was disgusting. I had no intentions of ever doing it in my life.

"Why don't we just stick to what we know works?" I finally responded.

"God, you never want to do anything different," he huffed and I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Why are you such a fucking prude?"

I didn't know how to respond to that. I stared at him blankly for a moment, then decided to just grit my teeth (not literally) and do what he wanted. I didn't want to get into a fight on my birthday.

I got down on my knees, closed my eyes and put that horrid, nasty thing in my mouth. It was the most revolting experience of my life. He grunted and grabbed my shoulders as I did it. Later, there would be bruises on my shoulders where his fingers were that I would have to put makeup on or wear certain tops in order to hide.

After a few minutes, I decided that I'd had enough. I stood up and walked into the bathroom without looking at him, locking the door behind me. I brushed my teeth five times and gargled with mouthwash seven, not even bothering to do so quietly so that he couldn't hear. I hoped he did hear. I felt disgusting and terrible about myself for succumbing to his pressure.

When I got into bed, I couldn't even look at him. Apparently he wasn't satisfied though, because he took my from behind, and because I didn't want to have to explain why I wasn't enjoying this on my birthday, I had to fake it a few times before he left me alone.

I laid completely still until I heard his breathing deepen and I knew he was asleep. Once he started to snore, I started to cry quiet, wet sobs that wrenched my entire body until I finally fell asleep, tears and snot still streaking my face.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own any copyrights for the lyrics to Maroon 5 songs. Those all belong to Adam. I think. They're not mine in any case._

**Chapter 6**

After that incident, I had a hard time dealing with Dylan at all. I thought a lot about the difference in the way he treated me as compared to how Adam treated me and the way I felt when I was around both of them. Adam won hands down both times, but Dylan was still the source of familiarity and consistency in my life and I just didn't know if I could live without that.

Well, I was about to find out.

The Saturday after my birthday, I was out shopping all day for some retail therapy. Really I was just exploring the area and avoiding the apartment. I had told Dylan I would be back at 9:00. Unfortunately I ran out of things to do by 7:30, so I got home an hour early.

When I first walked through the door, Dylan was nowhere to be seen and I could hear a thumping coming from our bedroom. That was strange. I wondered what was going on. As I continued quietly down the hallway, I heard a woman's voice saying, "Don't stop, don't stop" and a man's grunting. Anyone could have figured out within seconds what was going on, but my mind was in such shock it wasn't until I opened the bedroom door and saw Dylan fucking his secretary Melanie that I realized exactly what I was witnessing.

Of all the things to come out of my English major mouth, the only thing I said was, "Are you shitting me?"

They both screamed in surprise, separated, and covered themselves up with sheets.

"Are you shitting me? How long?" I demanded, storming across the room.

"About a week after we moved here," Dylan said weakly. He didn't even look remorseful.

I slapped him hard across the face.

"I hope you enjoyed your job while it lasted, because I can assure you that by Monday it will be gone," I snapped at the bimbo. "And as for you," I turned back to Dylan, "I can't believe I wasted so much of my time on you. Do you even _know_ how long ago I could have been in a better relationship with someone who doesn't make me suck his tiny, nasty dick? Fuck you. Just fuck you. Oh wait, she already did. I never want to see you again. I'm coming back here on Monday to get my stuff and if I were you I would arrange it so that you won't be in here while I am."

With that, I turned on my heel and left the apartment, absolutely fuming.

I got in my car and just started driving. I didn't stop until I got to a gas station (mostly because I just needed gas). Before I left the gas station, I decided I should probably find somewhere to go.

At first I thought of calling Layla but then decided that would be embarrassing. I decided instead to call Adam. I'm sure he could make me feel better.

The phone rang a few times before he picked up. "Hello?" he answered, sounding confused.

"Hey, Adam," I said, suddenly afraid that this was the wrong decision.

An empty silence answered me. Oh God. He had moved on. He had a girlfriend and he didn't want anything to do with me. I had waited too long.

Finally, his voice said, "Jenna?"

"Yeah, it's me," I said. Duh. Why was this taking him so long to figure out?

"Oh, hey! I didn't know your number," he explained. That's right. He put his number in my phone but I never gave him mine. "What's up?" he asked.

"This is going to sound strange but, do you mind if I please come over tonight? I need somewhere to go right now," I asked, trying my best not to sound miffed or desperate, though I was both.

"Yeah, sure, no problem," he replied easily.

He gave me directions to his place and I hung up, telling him I'd call him if I got lost.

I arrived at his house without a problem, and by the time I got there, the anger had worn off and the embarrassment and hurt were kicking in. By the time I knocked on his door, I was ready to cry.

He opened the door looking happier than ever to see me and so sexy in a black sweater and blue jeans. I almost broke down crying right there. His smile dropped as soon as he saw my face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concern flooding his voice.

"Before I tell you, can I please have some of the strongest alcohol you have?" I replied, holding back those tears with all of the strength inside of me.

"Yeah, definitely, come here," he said instantly and stepped aside so I could walk in. Frankie nearly knocked me over as soon as I came in, putting his paws on my shoulders and slobbering all over my face.

"Oh, Frankie, get down," Adam whispered sternly as if I couldn't hear him.

"It's okay. I need this right now," I told him, hugging the dog and letting him lick my face as Adam walked by me and into the kitchen to get my drink. I couldn't help it. I'm a sucker especially when I need to cry and a dog is around. I just started crying into the dog's thick, soft fur, bunching it in my hands when he started licking my face. Dogs are the best animals alive, especially when you're sad and need to have a good cry.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Adam asked when he saw me using his dog as a tissue. I looked up through blurry eyes and saw him staring at me in concern, a shot glass full of a clear alcohol in one hand and a bottle of the same stuff in the other. I took the shot out of his hand and downed it.

"Okay, you know what, let's go sit out here," Adam said, staring at me as if I were about to explode (or maybe as if I already had), and opened the sliding glass door that led onto the patio outside.

He immediately put the alcohol and glass down when we got outside and walked over to me. He wrapped his arms around me and stroked my hair while I cried.

The first time I stopped to take a breath, he led me over to the chair and sat down in it and I crawled into his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and continued sobbing into his shoulder, soaking his nice, soft, sexy sweater in my nasty tears and snot.

While I let this first burst of sadness out, he said nothing, just stroked my hair and let me cry. Eventually, when I felt I could talk again, I managed to get out the words, "Dylan wa-a-as ch-ch-cheating on me. With his _s-s-s-ecretary_!"

There was a brief pause before Adam responded. "You know, ever since I first met you I thought there must be something wrong with him for not paying more attention to you. He must be blind or insane or something. Nobody in their right mind would go after their secretary when they had you," he told me.

"She's not even nice! She's a bimbo and she's blonde and her name is _Melanie_," I added in disgust as if the name Melanie just added insult to injury.

I think Adam tried to stifle a laugh at this because I felt a rumble in his chest when I said this. He was being so nice to me. I went back to crying hysterically, unable to fathom that he was being so kind and that Dylan had cheated on me.

After a few minutes, Adam's quiet voice started to sing over top of my ugly sobs. "_Beauty queen of only eighteen, she had some trouble with herself. He was always there to help her, she always belonged to someone else," _he sang quietly and sweetly to me, his strong arms still holding me close to his body and stroking my hair.

When he got to the "_I don't mind spending every day out on your corner in the pouring rain" _part, I sobbed harder than before. That always was the saddest part of the song in my opinion and I was so sad already it was just heart wrenching, especially when it was sung quietly and by the writer of the song.

Never in my life had I ever imaged that I would be sitting in Adam Levine's lap, crying into his shoulder while he sang one of his most well known songs into my ear and stroked my hair. Seriously, what alternate universe was I living in where the second my nasty boyfriend and I broke up I got to go cry about it to Adam Levine?

By the time he finished the song, my sobbing had calmed down significantly. I sat there for a moment after my sobbing turned into sniffling, and closed my eyes, just enjoying the feeling of his warm, hard chest under my head, his strong arms wrapped tightly around me, his gentle hands stroking my hair and his perfect lips occasionally kissing my head.

"Adam?" I finally said, my voice squeaky but no longer unintelligible.

"Yeah, babe?" he replied, making my heart leap.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked.

"I don't think I've ever made my feelings for you much of a secret," he pointed out in response.

"I know, you've told me you love me quite a few times. But really, why?" I insisted.

"You deserve to be told how much you are loved every day," he responded, though it didn't really answer my question. That just sent me into another round of sobs.

"What? Why are you crying about that?" he asked, laughing.

"It's just so _nice_," I squeaked.

"Yeah, exactly, so you should be happy instead of crying."

"But it just makes me feel like such a bitch when you're this nice to me. I have been nothing but mean to you from the first time we met and now someone is finally treating me the way I've treated you and you just continue to be nice and let me soak your nice sweater with my tears and snot," I explained, crying even more as I said this.

"Listen to me," he started. "First of all, there are probably three people in the whole world that I would hold on my lap while they soaked my sweater in tears and snot. Out of those three people, you are by far the one I most prefer and there is nowhere I'd rather be right now than right here, holding you and giving you a literal shoulder to cry on. Stop, don't cry about that, just be happy," he told me and continued. "And you have not really been that mean to me since we first met. You definitely did not treat me the way that Dylan treated you today. So you don't have to feel as bad about acting like a bitch before. If you did, it was only because I was being a dick and I liked making you act like a bitch."

I was silent for a moment, and out of the blue, who knows why I said this, just suddenly decided to make a confession to Adam. "He made me blow him the other day," I whispered.

"_What_?" Adam snapped, pulling his head back to look at my face as if he thought I was making it up.

I couldn't look at him, just continued to stare off into the dark California night as I said, "The other day he was just standing there, naked, in my closet, and said he wanted me to blow him. I told him I didn't want to, but he got mad and called me a fucking prude, and I didn't want to fight with him on my birthday, so I just … did it," I said so quietly I could barely hear the words myself. I turned my head into his chest and started to cry again as I said, "It was the most horrible thing I've ever done in my life."

Adam's arms held me tighter now, rubbing my arm soothingly. "He made you give him a blow job on your birthday?" he repeated incredulously.

I sobbed and nodded, unable to form words.

"Jenna, if I ever see him, I am going to make him regret what he did to you," Adam told me, his voice shaking with fury.

I really had nothing to say to this, so I just gripped onto his sweater tighter, and let my embarrassments and sorrows out into his neck.

When I finally stopped crying, Adam offered me a tissue box and another shot of alcohol, both of which I eagerly accepted. When I finished with both of those, Adam turned my face towards him, wiping away a streak of tears that I had missed. Then he pressed his lips to my forehead, kissing me softly. He continued on down to my eyes, kissing each one slowly and gently, then to the tip of my nose, jaw, and right at the corner of my mouth.

He stopped there, hovering near my lips for a moment, making my heart beat faster and faster all the while. When I thought I couldn't bear the suspense any longer, I reached up, took his face in my hands and brought it down to finally meet mine.

His lips were soft and warm and moved sweetly with mine. My lips parted under his and we shared the same air. His lips moved with mine, and when I toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, he let out a soft groan. I grinned even while he continued to kiss me, and twined my fingers in his thick, dark hair while he erased every sorrow from my body with his sweet, soft kisses.

We finally broke apart, and he left a few last, quick kisses on my lips before we completely separated, both of us smiling and panting slightly, resting our foreheads against each other. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he whispered to me, and I grinned back at him. "I love you," he whispered, kissing me again softly.

I laid my head back on his chest again and snuggled into his embrace. "Can you sing me more of your songs?" I whispered and he laughed.

"Which one do you want to hear?" he asked.

"Any of them. Surprise me," I replied, smiling.

"Okay, let me think," he said, and paused for a moment, before singing. "_Whoa-oh-oh, I really need to kno-o-ow,_" he sang, though much quieter and slower than the song version that had come to be number one on my Top 25 Most Played songs on iTunes. "_Whoa-oh-oh, or else you've gotta let me go-o-o. This time I really need to do things right. Shivers that you give me keep me freezing all night. You make me shudder, oh yeah. I can't believe it, I'm not myself. Suddenly I'm thinking about no one else. You make me shudder. I really, I really need to kno-o-ow or else you've gotta let me go-o-o, o-o-oh!" _He kissed my head before singing the chorus, "_You're just a fantasy girl. It's an impossible world. All I want is to be with you always. I'll give you everything. Pay some attention to me. All I want is just you and me always. Give me affection, I need your perfection cuz you feel so good you make me s-s-stutter!"_

I closed my eyes, enjoying the sound of my favorite singer's voice quietly crooning my favorite songs in my ear. His embrace was so warm, his arms were so strong, and it felt so good for him to run his fingers through my hair like he did. Before I knew what was happening, I fell asleep.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a completely foreign room. It was dark so at first I just waited for my eyes to adjust. When they did I realized I had no idea where I was and I sat up quickly. An arm that had been resting on my hip slid into my lap as I did so and the steady, deep breathing that I hadn't noticed coming from behind me until now stopped. I turned instantly around, and saw a man laying directly behind me – he had been spooning me. But that wasn't Dylan…. Who was that? Where was I? What was going on?

The man stirred and slowly blinked, looking up at me.

"Adam?" I asked, now extremely confused as to why he was laying next to me instead of Dylan.

"Hey what's wrong?" he mumbled, his voice gruff from sleep.

"What – what's going on? Where am I? How did this… happen?" I asked, completely perplexed by this whole situation.

"You fell asleep in my lap when we were out on the porch before and I didn't want to wake you up, so I just brought you in here with me," he explained, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Where is here?" I asked.

"My bedroom," he replied as if this should be obvious. I guess it should have been. Nothing is obvious when you wake up in a room you have never been in while conscious.

"Oh," I said quietly, looking around again as if this changed things. I looked down and happened to notice that I was still wearing the same t-shirt and shorts I had been wearing before. And that I had to pee.

"Where is your bathroom?" I asked.

"Through that door right there," he said and pointed at a door across the room.

I got out of bed and went into the bathroom. I relieved myself, and decided to take off my shirt and shorts and just sleep in my underwear. There is nothing more uncomfortable than sleeping in denim and I didn't think I could fall asleep again like that. I checked myself in the mirror, decided I didn't care that I looked so terribly ugly because it was dark in the room, turned the light off and went back into the bedroom, leaving my clothes folded in a neat pile on the bathroom floor.

I crawled back in bed next to Adam who had lain down again and slipped his arm around my waist as I settled under the covers, facing him. He shifted his body over, twisting to fit the mold that I was in (as Adam himself once said so poetically) and looked at me in surprise.

"Your shirt and shorts are gone," he commented, grinning.

"They were too uncomfortable to sleep in," I explained.

He pulled me in closer to his body. "Fine by me," he whispered in my ear and kissed my neck slowly and seductively.

I pulled back so his face was by my face and kissed his lips. He kissed me back with a hunger I had never felt before when kissing anyone. His hands moved along my side, squeezing my back and butt, his legs intertwining with mine. He pulled me on top of his body, flipping me on top of him as he laid on his back. His hands gripped my skin tightly now and held me close to his hot, heaving body. I didn't think I would want to have sex again for a long time after what happened on my birthday, but I absolutely wanted Adam right then and there. So when he unhooked my bra and slid off my underwear, I didn't try to stop him, but actually helped him and slid his boxers off as well.

At that point he had flipped me over so that he crouched over top of me as his lips trailed from the base of my neck down my chest. I played with his hair as he explored my body with his lips, leaving my skin tingling everywhere they touched.

He returned to my mouth, kissing me fervently again, and this time slid into me. I let out a quiet gasp at this and gripped his back tighter. He moved slowly, back and forth, inside of me and I moaned and cried out in pleasure as he did. All the while, he whispered, "I love you" over and over again in my ear. It was, without a doubt, the best sex I have ever had in my life.

When we finished, we lay panting and grinning like idiots side by side. "Wow," I finally said.

Adam turned to look at me, still grinning. "Was that a good wow or a bad wow?" he asked.

"Definitely good. Really good," I replied emphatically, smiling back and kissing him quickly.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in close to him again at that. His eyes stared deeply at me, as if he were trying to memorize my face, the grin never leaving his. "You make me so happy, Jenna," he whispered.

I smiled even broader than before at that and blushed like the child I am. "You have made me much happier than I would have been on my own tonight," I replied.

"Good. I like it when you're happy," he responded, playing with my hair and brushing a strand out of my face and I laughed quietly, but was overcome by a sudden, unexpected yawn.

"I am exhausted," I said, suddenly realizing this was true.

"It is two in the morning, so we should probably go to sleep," he replied, not looking the least bit sleepy.

"Thank you for being here for me. And letting me ruin your sweater," I added.

"It was my pleasure. Goodnight, Jenna. I love you," he said and kissed me again.

"Goodnight," I said dreamily, grinning from the heat of his kiss.

"Goodnight," he repeated.

I burst into laughter at this.

"What? Why are you laughing?" he asked, grinning despite his confusion.

"Nothing. It's dumb," I said.

"No, tell me!"

"Well, when my mom and I used to listen to your song, 'Goodnight, Goodnight', we always laughed when you got to the part where you just kept saying 'goodnight' and I always said you were one of those people that would go, 'goodnight' and I would say, 'goodnight', and you would say, 'goodnight' and I would say, 'goodnight' and you would say, 'goodnight'. It's just funny to me that you _are_ one of those people! We were right all along!" I explained and he laughed.

"So really, goodnight," I finally said when we settled down.

"Goodnight," he repeated. I laughed again, this time just out of exhaustion-induced giddiness, and fell asleep with a smile still on my face.


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I do not own any copyrights for the lyrics to Maroon 5 songs. Those all belong to Adam. I think. They're not mine in any case._

**Chapter 7**

The next morning I woke up to Frankie licking my face. It wasn't exactly the person I would have hoped to have wake me up by kissing me, but he was adorable and it had been so long since a dog had woken me up, I didn't mind at all. I just said, "Well good morning, Frankie" and ruffled his ears. He took his front paws off of the bed, wagging his tail at the sight of me awake and just stared at me expectantly. I turned over to find Adam's side of the bed empty, and checked the clock. It was only 9:30. Adam must be an early riser.

Frankie licked my hand again insistently. "Okay, okay, I'm getting up," I told him. I crawled out of bed and wandered into the bathroom. While I was in there, I gargled with mouthwash and tried to fix my hair as best as I could. Then I found Adam's sweater from last night and slid it on overtop of my bra and underwear.

When I got back to the bedroom, Frankie was still standing there, tail wagging, waiting for me to come out. He trotted out into the hall when he saw me, and turned around, waiting for me to follow him. "Well aren't you a smart boy?" I said to him and followed him into the hallway.

I was actually glad to have a guide seeing as I had no idea where in Adam's house I was and even how big it was. Frankie led me down the hallway and out in between the living room area where the band and I had played poker after the concert and the kitchen. As I came out of the room, I could hear singing and smelled bacon cooking. Sure enough, when I walked into the kitchen, Adam was there, singing away and frying an egg, a plate of bacon already cooked and still sizzling on a plate on the counter, right next to a plate stacked high with pancakes.

I was just going to keep watching Adam sing and dance while he cooked, but Frankie ran up to him and nudged his leg with his nose. Adam looked down at him and then turned around. "Hey! You found her! What a good boy! Here's your omelet, just like I promised you," he told the dog, sliding what looked to be a bacon and sausage omelet into the dog's dish, which he devoured within a few seconds.

"You trained the dog to retrieve girls from your room?" I asked, grinning at him.

"He is a golden _retriever_. It didn't take much training at all," Adam replied, smiling broadly at me.

"I can't believe you're making breakfast. Like actually _cooking _breakfast," I said, surveying the kitchen again.

"Why not?" Adam asked, closing the distance between us.

"I'm just so used to doing all the cooking and serving," I replied.

"Well that's because you were dating a douche," he said easily, wrapped his arms around me, squeezed me tightly against him, picked me up and kissed me. Not just a quick peck, either. It was a _passionate_ kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back with just as much fervor, but still couldn't help the surprised look that came over my face when he put me back down and separated from me.

"Wow," I said.

He laughed. "That is how you always should be kissed. At least five times every day," he said matter-of-factly as if he had read that in a dating rulebook once or something.

"I'm okay with that, as long as it's you kissing me," I replied, running my fingers through his hair.

"As long as it's up to me, it always will be," he said.

We stood there smiling at each other for a minute until the smell of something burning filled the air.

"I think something's burning," I pointed out.

Adam turned around quickly to look at the stove. "Shit. That's your omelet," he said and hurried across the room.

He ended up eating that omelet and making me a new, unburnt one, both of which we took outside and ate on the back patio.

"So what are you doing today?" he asked me, taking a bite of his dark brown, crunchy omelet.

"I figured I'd start looking at apartments," I said, eating a bite of my own. It was delicious, by the way, adding yet another plus to the list of Adam's pros and cons.

He looked sideways at me, chewing for a moment, before saying, "Apartments?"

"Yeah, you know, places people live in that are smaller than houses," I replied.

"What's wrong with just staying here?" he asked.

I stared at him for a moment with a blank look on my face. "You don't think that's moving a little too fast?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I mean, if you don't have anywhere else to stay, why not?"

"Well if I find an apartment, I will have somewhere else to stay," I pointed out. "Besides, I don't want to inconvenience you anymore than I have to, and I kind of like having a place of my own," I added.

"Jenna, the last adjective I would use to describe you is inconvenient," he said, twining his fingers through mine and I smiled at him.

"Either way, I just need to go look at apartments. And probably buy some clothes until I get mine from Dylan's apartment. Why? Were you looking for company today?" I asked.

"Actually, the guys are coming over later and we're having a writing session," he said.

"Oh my God," I muttered, a grin spreading across my face before I could stop it.

"What?" he asked.

"That is so cool. I'm going to be in the same house where you write songs. Ahhh! That's amazing!" I screeched excitedly, bouncing in my chair and he laughed at me. "Sorry, I'm just fangirling a little bit."

"You could stay and watch if you want," he offered, grinning at me.

"No, no, I couldn't. I'd mess up the band mojo," I said.

He laughed again. "Suit yourself."

We chatted aimlessly while we finished the rest of our breakfasts and afterwards, I changed back into my clothes from yesterday. The first stop would be a mall so I could buy a new, more presentable outfit.

I was just about to walk out the door when Adam stopped me. "Here, you can take this key so you can just come in and out of the house as you like," he said, placing a key in my hand.

I stared up at him warily. "Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah, of course I am," he replied. "See you later, baby. I love you," he said.

"Bye," I replied as he took my face in his hands and kissed me slowly and lingeringly. As we parted, I smiled at him one more time, put my hand to his face, turned and left to go house hunting.

(The following scene I write not from observation but from a recounting of the tale I heard later from multiple sources).

About an hour after I left, Matt, Mickey, James and PJ showed up to start the writing session. They all made their way out to the back patio first – where they usually started their writing sessions. The bottle of alcohol and glasses from the previous night were still on the table on the patio.

"Were you thirsty last night?" James asked, noting the two glasses.

"No, um … Jenna came over last night," Adam replied slowly, as if he still couldn't believe it had been real.

"Jenna as in the Jenna who isn't your girlfriend but you wish she was and you haven't shut up about her since the day you two met? That Jenna?" James clarified.

"Yep," Adam said slowly.

All of the guys looked at him with raised eyebrows except Mickey. "I'm not surprised," he muttered.

"What made her change her mind?" Matt asked.

"Well, uh, her boyfriend cheated on her with his blonde bimbo secretary," Adam started.

"Ooh, not the blonde secretary," James said, wincing and Matt punched him playfully.

"And she just came over here and started bawling. She was going on about something to do with missing her dog, and she wanted the strongest alcohol I had and then we came out here, and she told me what happened, and I tried to make her feel better," Adam finished.

The guys guffawed at this. "Okay, stop right there," Matt said. "Who wants to take bets on how he made her feel better?"

"Oh, I do!" James said immediately.

"Okay, you start," Matt replied.

"You told her he was blind and crazy for leaving her, there was a make out session and it ended in sex and a shower," James guessed.

"Mickey, go," Matt continued, pointing at the incredibly bored looking guitarist.

"She got wasted while he listened to her sad story, he took her to bed, sex before falling asleep and he probably made her breakfast this morning," Mickey said without missing a beat and in a complete monotone.

"Ooh, good detail. PJ, what do you think happened?" Matt said.

"I'm going to guess that they just had a nice discussion, he made her feel better, and he fell asleep on the couch after he put her to bed in his room. No sex," PJ bet.

"Oh, God, PJ, do you _like_ to lose your money?" James asked him, cringing.

PJ just shrugged and smiled. "What do you think happened, Matt?" he asked pleasantly.

"I think he sang to her to make her feel better, they made out, had sex, fell asleep and breakfast was included in the deal. Also, the dog was probably involved somehow. What are the stakes?" Matt rattled off easily.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You can't just say, 'the dog was probably involved somehow', you need to be specific," James pointed out.

Matt sighed in exasperation. "Fine. He had Frankie do that weird thing he taught him where he drags the girl out of bed and takes her out to the kitchen," he specified.

"Seriously, how _did_ you train him to do that?" James asked Adam.

"I keep telling you guys he's smarter than he looks," Adam replied, still grinning from his band mates' speculations on his love life.

"Stakes!" Matt reminded everyone.

"Fifty bucks," PJ offered.

"Oh don't be a baby, PJ. I bet 250," James countered.

"Why not make it an even 300?" Mickey muttered.

"Sensei has spoken. 300 it is," Matt decided and everyone shook on it. "Okay, Adam, which of us was closest?" he asked.

"Well, I listened to her sad story, so a point to Mickey although she did not get wasted. I told her he was blind and crazy for dumping her, so a point to James for that. Then I sang to her to make her feel better, so a point to Matt and then we made out, so Matt and James have two points now. Unfortunately, all three of you were wrong about the sex. She fell asleep while I was singing to her," he said to the disappointed shouts from James and Matt. Mickey looked like he couldn't care less and PJ just smiled quietly.

"However," Adam continued, silencing James and Matt, "she woke up in the middle of the night and we did have sex then. Since you three guessed we hooked up before we fell asleep, none of you get the point, and I'm going to give it to PJ just for believing I'm a halfway decent guy," he said.

"Boo!" James called and PJ just chuckled.

"What about the dog?" Matt pressed.

"Oh, yeah, I did have Frankie wake her up, so a third point for that, Matt. And a point to both Matt and Mickey because I made her breakfast. So Matt wins," Adam finished.

"Yes!" Matt shouted, jumping up from where he had been seated and pumping his fist in the air.

After Matt collected his winnings and everyone settled down, James said, "So how was she, man? Are you still madly in love with her?" he asked, beating his eyelashes dramatically.

Adam grinned widely at that. "Yeah, I am," he said. "She was – _is_ – amazing. Not just the sex, although that was," he coughed and his eyes went wide, "_really_ good. She's just so smart and she's funny but she doesn't mean to be and she's absolutely adorable and just so… different … from all of the other girls I've dated. You know what I mean? Like, she's more sincere and down-to-earth. I don't know. She makes me happy. When she's with me, it's like I'm the luckiest guy in the world and I just always want to be with her and feel the way I do when I'm with her. I don't know, I can't really explain it," he said slowly.

The guys had gone silent at this. After a moment, PJ reached over and patted him on the back. "I'm happy for you, man," he said. "She sounds like she's really special."

"We're all happy for you," Matt added.

"Yeah, we're especially happy she's smarter than the Russian. Remember when she first came here and she thought Frankie was a bear?" James laughed. When no one responded, he sobered immediately and said, "But all that matters is that you're happy, Adam."

Everyone laughed at this and the guys got on with their writing session.

After a long, and I mean _long,_ afternoon of house hunting, I came back to Adam's house at 5:30 in a new pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a loose, oversized cream lace sweater along with a bag of a few other outfits I had purchased at Ann Taylor as well as a stack of papers about different apartments, townhouses and condos I had visited that day. I was completely exhausted, both mentally and physically, and just wanted to take a hot bath, eat a whole lot of whatever I could find (I was so hungry, I just wanted food, I didn't care what it was) and collapse into bed where I could fall into a deep, endless stupor.

I tried to open the front door as quietly as I could, without my bag or papers rustling too much, hoping not to disturb the guys' writing session. I still couldn't believe I would sleep in the same building where such magic took place.

"Hey! Babe, you're home!" Adam said as I closed the door behind me. I looked up to see Adam and the rest of the band sitting at the same table where we had played poker not so long ago. All of them looked up at me expectantly as I walked in, but only Adam grinned from ear to ear as if I had just brightened up his day by entering the room.

"Yeah, hi," I replied, smiling. "Hey everybody," I said to the rest of the guys as I crossed the room. "How's the writing session going?" I asked, gazing intently at the assorted papers scattered across the table. Oh my gosh, just so incredible that I was this close.

"Great!" Adam replied eagerly, wrapping his arms around my waist as I came close enough for him to do so. He pulled me into his lap, still smiling at me.

"Yeah, Adam's feeling inspired today," James remarked.

I turned back to Adam, who reached up and kissed me as if he hadn't seen me in days, his one hand on my face, his fingers running through my hair, the other squeezing my waist.

I took my free hand and pushed him back gently, pulling away. "Adam," I chided despite the butterflies in my stomach, "don't be so rude to your friends."

This was met by a wave of, "Ohh!"s from the guys.

I rolled my eyes, stood up, breaking myself out of Adam's grasp, and backed up a few feet so he couldn't pull me in again. "Do you guys want anything to eat? I can make you something if you want," I offered.

"Oh, don't worry about it, babe. We usually just order pizza," Adam told me.

"Oh, okay. Do you want me to call it in?" I asked.

"Nah, Mickey usually does that for us. What do you like on pizza?"

"Oh, I don't care. I'm not picky," I replied. "Okay, then, I don't want to get in your way. I'll just let you guys continue writing. Ahh! This is so cool!" I exclaimed one last time before I hurried down the hallway back to the bedroom.

I could hear them talking quietly amongst themselves as I walked away.

"She's way better than the Russian. I hate PDA."

"Smart girl. She knows when to give us space. And she actually likes our music, unlike Tsar Anne."

"God, is it just me or did she get even prettier since the last time we saw her?" This voice I thought sounded like PJ's and I grinned. He was a sweetheart.

And finally, "You're really lucky, man."

Followed by, "I know."

He wasn't the lucky one. I was.

A few hours later, the writing session was finally over and the guys left us in peace. As soon as the front door shut, I turned to Adam, took his face in my hands and kissed him. Maybe it was being in the presence of his music that I loved so much. Maybe it was coming home to a warm, welcoming environment after a long and trying day. Maybe it was the way his face lit up when I walked in the door. Maybe it was the deep love I heard in his voice when he talked about me. Or maybe it was all of those things combined. Or none of those things. Either way, I was suddenly absolutely crazy about him and I wanted to show him that I was just as attracted to him as he was to me.

The force of the kiss slammed him back against the door, but he immediately wrapped his arms tightly around me, squeezing my back and butt. He kissed me back with as much passion as I kissed him – hungrily, as if we would never have the chance to do this again. I ran my fingers through his hair and wrapped my fingers around one lock of hair at the base of his neck. He groaned softly and pulled me closer to his body, slowly inching my sweater up and off of my body.

We had to part as it came over my head and before I was able to kiss him again, he looked at me, panting. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"Yeah, I'm great," I replied, confused.

"Oh. You just seem a lot more enthusiastic than usual," he pointed out.

"Seeing you writing music just really turns me on," I said in a low voice, grinning seductively at him and I bit his lip playfully.

He let out another low groan and I felt his lower body press closer against me.

"Man, I should have a writing session every day," he grinned, and returned to kissing me.

After another few minutes of hungry kisses (who knows how long it really was – time was nonexistent in our universe), he picked me up, I wrapped my legs around his torso, giggling, and he carried me back to the bedroom.

As I dismounted, I pulled his shirt up over his head and ran my hands over his nicely sculpted body while he continued to kiss me. I could feel goose bumps on his skin where I touched him and grinned at the power I had over him. He loved me so much. So much more than Dylan ever had in our entire relationship. Just as I was thinking this, he moved to kissing my neck, whispering, "I love you, Jenna," intermittently.

Finally our clothes scattered the floor and he followed me as I fell back onto the bed. He slid into me and I moaned softly. As he moved back and forth inside of me I cried louder and louder, gripping his back tighter and tighter. I hadn't thought there could be an improvement on last night. I was sorely mistaken.

We went at it again and again until we were both spent, exhausted and grinning from ear to ear. After it was over, we laid side by side. Adam reached down and took my hand, my fingers instantly entwining with his. I gazed at him and smiled at his already grinning face.

"I love you, Jenna," he whispered and kissed my hand softly.

I just continued to smile at him. "I know you do, babe. And I am so lucky that you do," I added, using the line I had heard earlier that evening.

"I'm glad you think so now. When you still hated me I thought if you ever said those words to me, I would be the luckiest man alive," he admitted.

Unsure if he was referring to the phrase 'I am so lucky you love me' or the phrase 'I love you', I decided to let it drop. I didn't want to ruin a perfect moment with a discussion of the L word and quite frankly I just wasn't ready to say it to him yet.

"When I still hated you I also hated myself. I was being stupid and should have seen the obvious truth that you kept pointing out to me," I replied with a wry smile.

"Hey, don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault," he reassured me, removing his hand from mine to brush a stray hair out of my face and rub his thumb across my cheek.

For some reason I suddenly started to cry. Oh God, I hated when I got emotional, especially in front of other people.

"Hey, shh, don't cry. Baby, don't cry. What's wrong?" he whispered, wiping the tears from my eyes and kissing me softly.

I sat up before I could start and he followed me. "Just… coming here tonight… I mean… I was just so exhausted and so tired and everything I looked at wasn't right and everything is so expensive and I hate looking for things by myself and my realtor wanted to know why I was looking for a new place and that's a perfectly reasonable question, but I _snapped_ at him because I was too embarrassed to tell him the truth! And here I am looking at all of these expensive places and I go and spend $200 at Ann Taylor on new clothes. 200 dollars! I didn't need that many new clothes. I needed like a pair of jeans and three shirts and some underwear and I just went crazy like my mother used to, and I can't be like my mother, I just won't! And what am I supposed to tell my mother the next time she calls? She didn't want me to move out here in the first place. Hell, she didn't want me to move in with Dylan in the first place! Oh, she's just going to rub it in that it didn't work out. And then she's going to yell at me for staying with you! And she has no room to talk! She left my dad for a married fat bastard who taught junior high youth group at our church when I was in eighth grade! And she continually had boyfriends all the time and I know they slept together! She's such a hypocrite! And then I go through all of that all day today and I just want to come back here and crash and be alone with my misery… and you, like, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree when I walked in the door. I didn't even do anything or promise to do anything. I just walked through the fucking door and you were, like, ecstatic to see me. No one has been that happy to see me since before I put my dog down in eleventh grade! And you could give him a run for his money for most enthusiastic greeting! And I just know that if I had had a day like this, and I _did_ have _so many_ days like this when I was with Dylan, he didn't give a flying fuck when I came home. He let me be alone in my misery. He didn't light up like you did. He just wanted me to cook him dinner and rub his fucking feet and give him a fucking _blow job! _And do you know how long and hard I chased after Dylan? It took him over a year to ask me out after I first started liking him! And I was so mean and so rude to you and here you are just taking me in and being better to me than any man in my _life_ has ever been and you barely know me and I _slapped _you! I'm a terrible person!" I blurted out, crying such an ugly cry once I finished.

The whole time I spoke, Adam had just watched me with concern in his eyes and continued to wipe away my tears with his thumb. When I finished he didn't say anything right away, and at first I thought he had agreed with me and he was getting ready to tell me to leave. Then he said, "Come here," and he pulled me into his embrace and let me sob into his shoulder while he rubbed my back and stroked my hair.

After I had calmed down, he pulled away again, held my face in his hands, and looked me straight in the eye as he said, "Jenna, I don't care what you said or how you acted before. It's in the past. I love you and it doesn't matter how you used to feel or who you used to be with. I love you. Dylan was an idiot for not realizing how lucky he was to have you. Your mom will get over whatever problem she has with me because she loves you too, just like I do, and what she sees as a silly mistake won't make her stop loving you. I'm so sorry you had a bad day, but I want you to know that whenever you do have bad days, you can come here and you can relax because I will take care of you because I love you. You're not a terrible person. You're a wonderful, amazing person and I love you. Okay?" he told me quietly but solemnly.

That made me want to cry again, but I held it in, nodded fervently and buried my head back in his shoulder.

When all of the tears had left my body, he handed me a few tissues and I got rid of the excess fluids on my face. When I had cleaned myself up, I turned back to Adam who had been stroking my hair or holding my hand the whole time.

"Are you okay now?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm good," I replied, grinning wryly. "I'm sorry. I promise this whole messy crying thing isn't going to be a regular occurrence."

"It's okay, you can cry if you need to cry. And you can also talk to me about anything you want to talk to me about. Anytime you want. You can wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me about your parents divorce if you want to. I would be more than happy to listen. Okay?" he asked.

"Did you just say the phrase 'wake you up in the middle of the night'?" I asked, completely dazed.

"Well, I think I said, 'wake me up', but yeah," he replied, looking confused.

"Oh my God! It's just like your song! I _love_ that song!" I exclaimed, bouncing slightly in enthusiasm and he laughed.

"Never Gonna Leave this Bed?" he asked.

"Yes!"

"Do you want to hear it?" he offered.

I stopped. My face went blank and I sat up straight. "Are you for real?" I asked quietly.

Adam laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I'm for real."

"Oh my God, YES I want to hear it!" I nearly shouted and he laughed again.

"Okay, hold on a second," he said, pulled on his boxers, ran out of the room, and came back in with his guitar a minute later.

"I am literally shaking I am so excited," I told him.

"Who knew you were such a huge Maroon 5 fan?" he laughed, shaking his head as he plucked out the first few notes of the song.

"_You push me. I don't have the strength to resist or control you, so take me down. Take me down. You hurt me but do I deserve this? You make me so nervous. Calm me down. Calm me down,"_ he sang out in his beautiful voice and I bounced in excitement and mouthed the words of the chorus as he sang, "_Wake you up in the middle of the night to say I will never walk away again; I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh."_ Oh my God I thought I was going to die of happiness. Adam looked up, grinned at my ecstatic face, kissed my forehead quickly, and resumed. "_So come here, and never leave this place. Perfection of your face slows me down_," he looked up intensely at me as he sang this one, "_Slows me down! So fall down. I need you to trust me. Go easy; don't rush me. Help me out, why don't you help me out? Wake you up in the middle of the night to say I will never walk away again. I'm never gonna leave this bed. So you say, 'go, it isn't working', and I say, 'no, it isn't perfect, so I'll stay instead. I'm never gonna leave this bed.' Take it, take it all, take all that I have. I'd give it all away just to get you back. Fake it, fake it I'll take what I can get. Knocking so loud, can you hear me yet? Try to stay away but you can't forget. Wake you up in the middle of the night to say I will never walk away again. I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh. So you say, 'go, it isn't working' and I say, 'no, it isn't perfect, so I'll stay instead. I'm never gonna leave this bed, ooh'. Take it, take it all, take all that I have. Take it, take it all, take all that I have," _he finished the song.

I cheered and applauded loudly. "Oh my God! I can't believe that just happened! That song has been number one on my iTunes for, like, ever! Ahhh! That was amazing! Thank you so much!" I exclaimed, reached over the guitar and kissed him.

"Any time, babe," he replied, grinning.

I suddenly caught a whiff of myself and decided I really needed to shower. Adam though I needed some company while doing so, and it may have been the longest and most pleasurable shower of my life.

All clean and happy afterwards, Adam and I curled up in his bed and I fell asleep almost instantly with his arm around my shoulder, and my head on his chest.


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: I do not own any copyrights for the lyrics to Maroon 5 songs or Frank Sinatra songs. Those all belong to Adam/Frank. I think. They're not mine in any case._

_Please review!_

**Chapter 8**

I woke up the next morning to the feeling of someone playing with my hair (honestly, the most glorious feeling in the world). Obviously, upon opening my eyes I saw Adam staring at me lovingly while he ran his fingers through my hair.

He smiled when he saw my eyes flutter open. "Hey," he whispered.

"Hey," I said quietly, smiling back at him. "How long have you been awake?" I asked.

"Maybe an hour," he replied.

"You didn't have to wait for me to wake up," I told him, although I had thought that he knew that already since he had not waited yesterday.

"I know. When I looked over at you and saw you sleeping, I just always wanted to remember that image of you. You just looked so peaceful and happy," he said.

"Don't forget crusty and scary," I added jokingly.

"You're beautiful," he said and kissed me.

"Oh God, Adam, at least let me brush my teeth before you do that," I told him, laughing. "My breath probably smells awful."

"I'm not going to argue with you about that one. Mine probably smells pretty gross too," he agreed, and we both got up and brushed our teeth. Who knew dating could be so good for oral hygiene?

As we ate our breakfast (just cereal today), Adam said to me, "So did you have anything planned for tonight?"

"No," I said, "Why?"

"Well the guys and I were invited to this event tonight. It's a tribute to Frank Sinatra event and we were told we could bring dates if we so chose. And I was wondering if you would be my date?" he asked, taking my hand in his as he did so.

"Wow, our first real date," I gushed sarcastically and laughed. "Yeah, I'd love to go. It sounds fun. Will I get to dress up?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's a black tie event," Adam replied.

"Well then, it's a good thing I bought a really nice little black dress at Ann Taylor yesterday," I said.

"See? You didn't need to beat yourself up for spending that money shopping yesterday. Everything happens for a reason," he reminded me.

"Yes it does," I said, thinking of that night that I had insisted on going to the bar by myself and ended up meeting Adam. Who knows where I would be now had that not happened? With that thought in my head, I reached over and kissed Adam again.

When I sat back in my chair, Adam looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" I asked, laughing.

"I still don't get you yet," he said slowly. "One minute you're completely nonchalant about me and I'm going after you and you're just like, 'whatever'. The next time I turn around, though, you're slamming me against walls and tearing my clothes off and kissing me for no reason at all."

"I like to keep you on your feet," I replied vaguely, smiling at him. "So this afternoon before we go to the Frank Sinatra event, I'm going to meet with my realtor again and look at a few more apartments," I told him.

"Okay. Do you mind if I come with you?" he asked.

I looked at him, confused. "You do understand that I'm looking for apartments to live in by myself, right?"

"Yeah, but yesterday you said you had a hard time with it, and I just thought maybe if I came with you, things would be easier on you. It might help to have some friendly company," he explained.

"I thought you didn't want me looking at apartments because you wanted me to live with you," I reminded him.

"I do want you to live with me. I would love for you to live with me. But you want an apartment, so if it's something that you want, I want to help you with it," he replied easily.

Oh my God. He was so sweet. He was just perfect.

I just stared at him, blinking, for a moment, shocked into silence, before regaining my composure. "Okay," I said, smiling at him. He grinned back and squeezed my hand.

I didn't deserve this. He was too good to me. What had I done to get such a perfect man?

As it turns out, Adam was actually incredibly helpful in the apartment search. He asked the realtor questions I never would have thought to ask, but were important details. He kept a running log of comparisons of each apartment we visited stored just in his head. I don't know how he did it. He even pointed out an apartment for rent that my realtor hadn't noticed but was in an almost ideal location.

He wasn't overly affectionate while we were out, but he did keep a steady hold on my hand the entire time, giving me a reassuring squeeze when he could tell I was starting to get overwhelmed. It was just like the night we left the concert and I was suddenly terrified of the large, loud crowd waiting outside of the doors for us and I grabbed for his hand just to have contact with something I was somewhat familiar with. It was just a constant reminder that there was someone there who would keep me safe and it was just what I needed.

After a few hours of house hunting, we decided to call it a day and Adam and I went to lunch at a little bistro he knew of in town. When he parked the car outside of the bistro, I asked, "Are we going in?"

He turned and looked at me as if I were a little slow. "Yeah. That's the only way to get food."

"But won't the paparazzi be all over you?" I reminded him.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "I'm not concerned about it."

"Oh," I said and paused. "Okay," I agreed and followed him inside.

From the moment we walked in the door, I could see people pointing and staring at us and I could hear them whispering as we got in line.

I stood closer to Adam and held tighter onto that familiar hand.

Adam looked down at this with a raised eyebrow, glanced around at the whispering people and took his hand out of mine to drape it instead around my waist. Of all the times he had tried to do this before, this was the first time I let him. He pulled me in close to him and I put my arm around his torso as well, hugging him sort of and smiled up at him. He smiled back and kissed me quickly before we had to move up in line.

After that, I could still hear the whispers and see the phones being raised to take pictures of our PDA, but I didn't care.

The food was just as delicious as Adam had said it was. We were interrupted a few times by fans. The first was a group of three twenty-something chicks, all blonde, all orange – I mean tan – and all sticking their boobs out much farther than they really needed to. I took a picture of the three of them crouched around Adam and smiling, and then they told me to take a second one just in case the first one didn't turn out (even though it had) and in the second one, they all kissed Adam. I took the picture without comment and gave the camera back to the chief Oompa Loompa.

"Thanks Adam," they all said in unison. Bleh. I wanted to puke.

He waved in reply, but didn't say anything. I thought about making a comment but then I remembered who would be sleeping with Adam tonight, and decided against it. He glanced up at me nervously a few times after that one, and I just smiled warmly at him.

The next interruption came from a middle-aged woman who had apparently been a member of the Maroon 5 fan club from the day it was possible to join. Adam signed a napkin for her (because there was nothing else for him to sign) and took a picture with her. Turns out she had actually met him several times before backstage and at meet and greets after concerts because when she mentioned her name, he suddenly recognized her. She apparently just couldn't pass up the opportunity to stop by and say hello. At least she was courteous enough to say hi to me as well and congratulated Adam for landing 'another gorgeous girl'.

I really didn't mind her interruption at all, and in fact I thought she was kind of funny.

The last interruption came from a group of teenage girls. They were much more impressed by Adam and just plain nervous to speak to him than the Sorority Sisters had been, and I remembered how I would have felt had I met one of my favorite celebrities at their age. I couldn't be mad at them. I took a picture of Adam with them and sat by smiling as he signed each of their hands.

"Oh my God, I'm never going to wash this hand again!" the girl who had asked for the picture in the first place squealed when he finished signing hers, the last hand. "Thank you so much!" she said to Adam and then turned to me as I handed her back her phone. She looked at the photo and screamed again. "Oh my God, THANK YOU!" she screeched, hugging me and bouncing up and down.

My eyes went wide and my body went stiff as she did this. I was not expecting such a warm reception. "You're welcome," I said, but they were already bouncing out of the bistro and probably didn't hear me.

I turned back to Adam after I watched them leave and found him laughing and I joined in with him.

"Wow. You just made her day," I remarked after we both calmed down.

"No, I think you did. You're the one who got photographic evidence that they met me," he pointed out and I laughed again. "You know my last girlfriend never took pictures for fans. She usually just glared at them and then gave me a hard time about it afterwards," he said.

I never knew what to say when guys mentioned their exes. Should I be sassy and say, "Well that's because I'm so much better than she was" or should I be sensitive and say, "Oh, I'm sure she was a lovely girl"?

Instead, I just said, "I know what it would have meant to me to be able to meet you or even take a picture with you before we met. Even, like, a year ago today, I would have totally freaked out if I had seen you in a sandwich shop and got to take a picture with you."

He stared at me for a while after I said this, his expression unreadable.

"What?" I finally asked.

"Nothing, I just don't understand… if you would have totally freaked out if you had met me and if you would have been so excited to be able to take a picture with me if you just saw me in a sandwich shop, how come you didn't freak out when I met you at the bar? You didn't act like those girls at all. I thought you hated me for a while," he reasoned.

I paused a moment, trying to think of words to properly explain my behavior. "I don't know," I finally said. "I think part of it was that you started flirting with me right off the bat and I had a boyfriend and you were being a dick. And I guess another part was that I just knew subconsciously that if I treated you just like a normal person and didn't freak out, that you would remember me."

"You wanted me to remember you?" he repeated.

"Yeah. That was better to me than getting a picture or an autograph. You meet people just like those girls every single day probably. You won't remember their faces or names in a week. The only ones you remember are the ones like that middle-aged lady who pays thousands of dollars every year to follow you around and take pictures with you. But you remembered me because I didn't fawn over you or try to kiss you in front of your girlfriend. That's something money can't buy," I said.

He stared at me again for a moment. "So you did like me all along," he said, grinning.

"No," I said immediately, blushing furiously. "Well… yeah, I guess so. But I didn't want to because I had Dylan and I, unlike some people, don't cheat," I admitted bitterly.

"Well I'm glad he did cheat, because you're right. I did remember you and I always will remember you as the girl who was so different from any other girl I've ever met," he said, taking my hand again. "After all, no one else has ever called me a, 'self-absorbed egomaniac who hits on strangers at a bar and is way more impressed with himself than anyone else in the club'."

I laughed at this. "I didn't actually say all of that," I chided.

"Oh yes you did. I remember it quite clearly. I had never been insulted so colorfully before," he said, laughing.

"And why did you like me after that?" I asked.

"I thought you were cute when you got angry," he said and I rolled my eyes.

"Please," I said.

"Why do you think I made you so mad every other time I saw you after that?" he pointed out.

"I just thought you were a dick. I don't know. Was I really cute when I slapped you at that charity dinner thing where you humiliated me in front of my boyfriend?" I asked.

His face went serious at this. "No. That wasn't cute at all. That was stupid of me. I hate myself for making you say those things," he said quietly. "Did you mean them?"

"If I did I wouldn't be sitting here with you right now," I replied.

"Good. You're too special. I never want to push you away with my stupid words," he told me, squeezing my hand again.

I smiled at him and squeezed his hand back. I started to say, "I love you", but before the words escaped my impulsive mouth, I reined myself in and said nothing. No. It was too soon to say that, even if he had been saying it almost nonstop since I first met him. If I hadn't said it, I still held some kind of power over my emotions. Or at least, that's what I told myself.

However, the unfinished sentence did not go unnoticed by Adam. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said quickly, brushing it off. "Are you ready to go?"

He looked at me curiously, as if he knew what I was about to say but hadn't. After a brief pause, he said, "Yeah, let's go."

As we walked out of the shop, he pulled me in close to him again with his arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head.

That night, as we got ready for the Sinatra event, I pulled on the little black dress I had bought the previous day at Ann Taylor. It was a classic style, sleeveless with a crewneck and fitted close to my body all the way to my knees where it stopped. I curled my hair into loose ringlets and twisted it into an up do, leaving a few strands down, framing my face. Finally I gave myself a smoky, smoky eye and was ready to go. And I did not look too bad if I might say so myself.

"Okay, I'm ready to go when you are, babe," I said, coming back into the bedroom from the spare bathroom where I had insisted on getting ready. Adam came out of his bathroom adjoining the bedroom as I said this.

"Whoa," he said when he saw me.

"What? Is something wrong? Oh no, did I spill something on myself already?" I asked frantically, checking my dress for stains.

"No, no, you look… amazing," he said, still gaping at me with eyes wide.

"Aww, thanks, darling. You look very handsome as well," I replied, smiling. And he did. Boy, he sure did clean up nicely. He wore a handsome black suit with a black tie and a clean-shaven face, his hair actually combed today rather than simply tousled.

"I can't wait until this is over," he said, approaching me and running his hand slowly up and down my side.

"Why? Don't you like Sinatra music?" I asked.

"No, I love him. I just can't wait to come home and get you out of that dress," he whispered, brushing his lips along my jaw, sending a shiver down my spine.

I turned and kissed him softly. "You don't have to worry. I'm not going anywhere," I said quietly and stepped away from him. "Come on, we're going to be late."

The event was held in an upper class, five star hotel and it was absolutely packed. It was amazing to be in the same room as so many famous people even though none of them recognized me or anything.

Dinner was served first. Adam and I had been seated at a table with Matt, Mickey, James and PJ, none of which, I suppose, had dates. We all chatted amiably throughout dinner.

After dinner, there was a brief intermission in which the band had some time to get ready before the performances started. The event was really just a fancy dance with different famous bands (such as Maroon 5) taking turns singing Frank Sinatra songs throughout. As it turned out, Maroon 5 was the first band on the schedule to play.

As dinner ended and the emcee called Maroon 5 to the stage to get set up, the boys immediately stood up and walked to the stage and Adam turned to me. "Will you be okay by yourself while we're playing?" he asked me quietly.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I said easily.

"You could sit backstage if you want instead of being out here all by yourself," he offered.

"Seriously, I'll be fine," I repeated. "I'm a big girl. I can handle myself," I reminded him.

A strange look came over his face and he started to say something, but stopped and started to stand up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what was that look?" I asked him.

"Nothing," he replied.

"Adam," I pressed.

"Adam, she will still be there when we are done. Get up here," James said into the microphone, making everyone in the room turn to look at us and chuckle. Adam looked at James and scratched his forehead with only his middle finger, flicking him off as subtly as he could and I had to suppress a grin.

"We can talk about it later. It's not a big deal. I have to get onstage," he said, kissed my forehead, and jogged across the crowded room in his nice tuxedo to the stage.

When I looked away from him, I noticed quite a few people staring at me now, some with approving oh-isn't-that-sweet smiles, some with jealous that-should-have-been-me glares. I've never been one to gravitate towards the limelight, so I found the nearest restroom and took advantage of the time alone to powder my nose, as they say.

On my way back to the ballroom, I could hear the band start to play "The Way You Look Tonight". I love that song. I picked up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter as I entered the crowded room, and made my way to the edge of the dance floor where a group of people had gathered to just watch the band but not dance.

"Yes, you're lovely," Adam sang, finding my face in the crowd and singing straight at me. "With your smile so warm, and your cheeks so soft, there is nothing for me but to love you and the way you look tonight." I smiled at him. The woman standing next to me, a tall, middle-aged blonde woman, noticed who Adam was signing to and turned to me.

She smiled warmly and said, "You do look gorgeous, dear. No wonder he's so in love with you."

I blushed at this. "Oh, thank you," I said, unsure of how to properly respond to this. "Do you know Adam?" I asked. How else would she be able to tell he was 'so in love with me'?

"Yes I do. I'm his ex-girlfriend's agent," she replied.

"Oh," I said.

"I only remember him looking at her like this a few times, and that was at the beginning. After the first month or so, he barely looked at her at all because he was never around," she elaborated. Why this stranger was spilling the romantic history of her client and my boyfriend was beyond me, but I was too intrigued by what she was saying to stop her.

"Oh," I repeated.

"But they stayed together anyway because it was convenient. Three years. He ignored her for the better part of three years and at the end she just broke it off with him. She was tired of a convenient relationship. She wanted a real relationship. She wanted to settle down and get married, have kids, buy a house, the whole nine yards, and he wasn't going to give it to her, so they broke up," she finished.

"You know what, this is really personal information. I'm not sure your client would want me to know all of this," I pointed out.

"You're right, you're right. I'm just warning you, honey. He's an awfully good catch and a great guy when he's around, but that bed can become very lonely," she said.

"Well thank you for considering my feelings, but I think I can handle myself," I replied, smiling warmly.

Just as this conversation ended, so did the song. And it turns out Maroon 5 was only singing that song, so they got off stage and were replaced by Mumford and Sons.

"Excuse me," I said to the woman, happy for a reason to walk away from her. Unfortunately, as Adam came off of the stage, a reporter approached him and asked him a question.

"May I have this dance?"

I turned quickly to see who had asked me this, confused. I was even more confused when I saw Mickey there, still absolutely no expression on his face.

"Sure, Mickey," I said, thinking if nothing else this would be a good time to try to get on this guy's good side by being nice to him. I had no idea if I was on any side with him at all, but I figured this couldn't hurt.

We walked onto the dance floor and he easily swept me up into a casual dance. Who knew he was so light on his feet?

"Jenna, can I ask you a question?" Mickey asked.

"Absolutely," I replied, very confused now.

"Why were you talking to Kathy Ryder just now?" he asked.

"Is Kathy the tall blonde woman over there?" I gestured with my head to where the woman I had spoken to stood sipping champagne by herself.

"Yes."

"She started talking to me. I was just being polite," I replied. "Why?"

"Do you know who she is?" he asked, although I would think it would be obvious that I did not seeing as I had to ask him what her name was.

"Well now I know her name is Kathy and she also mentioned that she is Adam's ex-girlfriend's agent, but that's all I know about her," I said.

"Yeah, you know the important part," he nodded. "What did she say to you?"

"She told me that Adam didn't pay any attention to his ex-girlfriend after the first few months and that she only stayed with him because it was convenient and that I should be careful because my bed is going to get very lonely," I summarized.

Mickey made a scoffing noise and shook his head quickly.

"I just want to be clear – I have no idea what kind of game is going on here," I added.

"What did you say to her?" Mickey pressed, ignoring my confusion.

"I told her I didn't think she should be sharing that kind of personal information with me and that I can handle myself. That sounds rude when I say it to you. It didn't sound as bad when I said it," I said.

"Okay listen," Mickey told me, as if I hadn't been up until then.

"I'm listening."

"Kathy has a sister who is a gossip columnist and she is always searching for a new story to share with her. She is the one who let her sister interview Anne – Adam's ex-girlfriend – in the piece in which she broke up with Adam. She is going to bump into you as often as she can and she's going to try to make it look like an accident so listen to me carefully."

Seriously, I was listening.

"If you and Adam are having any problems, please just keep it between you two and don't tell her. He was completely shocked by that article and he was very hurt that Anne hadn't just told him to his face she wanted to break up. It took him a long time to get over that. In fact, I don't think he started getting over it until he met you. And as many great songs as we get out of Adam's breakups, he is my friend and I hate to see him so upset. Please just remember that before you go talking to Kathy," he explained.

"I will," I replied, touched that Mickey was so loyal and protective of Adam. Just as I said this, the song ended and we stopped dancing. "Thank you for telling me that," I said.

"May I cut in?"

I turned around to find Adam standing behind me, smiling, but looking confused at the same time as he glanced from me to Mickey and back to me.

"I don't know, she's a pretty good dancer. I may just want to have another dance with her," Mickey said. Good God – he just made a joke. I never thought I'd see the day when Mickey cracked a joke.

"Then I'll just have to fight you for her," Adam replied and Mickey backed away in mock terror. Adam laughed, watching his friend go, and turned back to me. "Would you like to dance?" he asked.

"I would love to," I replied, smiling warmly at him, and stepping into his embrace, placing one hand on his shoulder, and clasping the other hand with his. His opposite hand rested on the small of my back and he pulled me in close to him so our faces were mere inches apart.

"So what was that all about?" he asked me quietly.

"Nothing," I brushed off easily. "He just wanted some bonding time. He's a sweetheart," I added.

Adam stared at me for a long moment, searching my face for what he knew I was hiding, before he said, "I saw you talking to Kathy Ryder."

"Yes, I did talk to her, and I told her she should mind her own business and keep her warnings to herself because I can handle myself," I replied easily.

He raised a surprised eyebrow at me.

"I said it more politely than that," I added.

"Even so, that's probably the first time anyone has ever told her that," he muttered.

I shrugged. "I give no shits what she thinks about you," I said.

"Jenna," Adam said.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

I smiled at him, closed the small gap between our faces and kissed him for a long moment.

We danced in silence for a while after that, my head resting on his shoulder. Every time I looked up I saw another woman glaring at me or another woman whisper to a friend as our gazes caught or Kathy herself, watching silently.

"Hey, do you guys have to play again tonight?" I asked Adam.

"No, we're done for the night," he replied.

"Let's get out of here," I whispered in his ear.

"Where did you want to go?" he asked.

"I don't know – let's go get drinks or something. I just don't want to have to be this civil with you right now," I whispered seductively (I hoped).

"Okay," Adam agreed eagerly, and we stopped dancing right away. He found Matt and told him to tell the rest of the guys he was leaving with me and not to wait up for him.

We ended up in the same bar where we met, incidentally. He said it was the closest place where the lights would be dim enough and there would be enough people that hopefully we wouldn't be recognized.

We seated ourselves in a booth near a back corner, but only a few feet away from the bar. "I'm going to go to the bathroom and then I'll come back and order drinks for us. Don't get up from this table. I don't want someone like me stealing you away," Adam told me and I just rolled my eyes at him.

A few minutes passed. God, I was really thirsty. I just wanted some water. The bar was right there. I might as well just go over there and ask for a cup of water. He was taking forever. Nothing's going to happen. I can handle myself anyway.

I crossed the small space between our booth and the bar and waited at the counter for the bartender to come over.

Oh irony of ironies – not even five seconds after I made it to the bar, a man sidled up next to me and said, "Hey, gorgeous."

I looked up at him. He was a tall, dark-haired, generally good-looking man, although he looked to be significantly older than me – as in probably at least twenty years older than me. He was also a large man, and not large like someone who visits McDonald's on a regular basis but large like someone who visits the gym on a regular basis.

"Hi," I replied briefly and turned back to staring at the back of the bartender's head, willing him with my mind to turn around and see me.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

"That's very nice of you to offer, but I have a boyfriend," I said as nicely as I could. No I didn't want to send the wrong message, but I also didn't want him to beat me up.

"No you don't," he said and I raised an eyebrow at him. "Where is he?" he asked, smiling disbelievingly.

"In the bathroom," I said evenly.

"In the bathroom?" he repeated. "Then why are you getting drinks?"

"I'm thirsty. I just wanted some water. Listen, I don't need to explain my motives to you or anybody else, I am here with my boyfriend, and I'm sorry, but I'm not going to have a drink with you," I retorted before I could think about what I was saying. I shouldn't have said that.

He took a step closer to me and ran his hand up my leg and butt. "Come on," he whispered in my ear as he did so. "Just one drink. Your little fake boyfriend won't have to know a thing."

I stepped back and slapped him before I could think about what I was doing (again). "Don't touch me," I snapped.

Now he was mad. He approached me again and I wasn't sure what I was going to do this time, but thankfully Adam stepped in front of me at that moment.

"Hey, leave her alone," he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Oh boy. I was in trouble. Adam was going to be mad at me. That is, if he survived this man beating the shit out of him.

"Get out of my way, pretty boy," the man grumbled and shoved him.

"I'm not going anywhere until you apologize to my girlfriend for being a dick," Adam retorted.

"Adam, it's fine," I said in his ear.

"No, it's not fine," he shot back, "Apologize," he demanded.

"I'm not going to fucking apologize to that little cunt for anything just because her little pussy boyfriend told me to," the man scoffed.

Adam reeled back and punched him square in the nose with a sickening crack. God, I hoped that was the man's nose and not Adam's good guitar-playing hand.

I backed up as the man came back at Adam with a swift punch to the face. Adam shoved him and clocked him again, this time in the ear, ducking as the man swung back at him.

I had no idea what to do and could only look on in horror until the security guards came and broke up the fight.

They kicked us out.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Please review!_  
**

**Chapter 9**

It was a long car ride back to Adam's house. When we first got in the car, I looked at him and asked, "Are you okay?"

"You know, you wouldn't have to ask me that if you would have just stayed at the booth like I asked you to. It wasn't that hard. Is it hard? You just had to sit in the booth. You didn't have to do anything. Why were you even at the bar?" he asked and I flinched at the tone in his voice. He had never spoken to me like this before. Then again, I had never almost gotten him beaten up before.

"I was really thirsty and you were taking a long time in the bathroom and I didn't think it would take long to just get a cup of water and sit back down," I explained.

"Somebody in the bathroom recognized me and I had to autograph everything he had on him before I could take a piss. I didn't think I was gone that long. I definitely didn't think I was gone long enough for you to get parched enough to go to the bar in a desperate search for water and then get into a fight with some guy," he shot back.

"I'm sorry, Adam. I would have been fine if you hadn't shown up. It was you he was throwing the punches at," I retorted, angry that he thought I was such a child I couldn't handle a few minutes of unsupervised time at the bar.

"Don't blame this on me. You would not have been fine. I saw him grab your ass and you slapped him. What do you think you would have done if I hadn't been there?" he demanded.

I did not respond right away to this because he was right. "I don't know," I finally said in a quiet voice.

We were silent for the rest of the ride home and as we got out of the car. We went to separate rooms to change – I got into a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt and let my hair out of the updo. As I changed, I continued to think about everything that had happened at the bar. He was right. I had been stupid and now he might have a broken hand and a black eye and who knows what other injuries because of me. I needed to apologize.

I walked back into his bedroom and found him in a t-shirt and pajama pants hanging up his tux.

"Hey," I said softly as I crossed the room to him.

"Hey," he muttered, not even looking at me.

I was a few inches away from him now. "Can I see your face?" I asked. God I felt stupid but I've always been bad at apologies.

He turned to face me and I cringed. His entire left eye was swollen shut and purple, he had some scrapes along the opposite cheek, and his lip was split.

"Oh, baby," I said softly, gently putting my hand to his face. "I'm so sorry." My voice cracked as tears came to my stupid eyes again. God I wished I could make it through one night here without breaking down in tears.

"I've had worse," he muttered, his face softening a very slight bit at the sight of my tears.

"Come on, let me take care of you," I said, taking his hand and pulling him out to the kitchen where he sat down in one of the chairs at the breakfast table. Frankie licked his hands and begged for his attention while I wrapped up some ice cubes in a bag and wet a washcloth.

I pulled up a chair right next to Adam's and held the ice up to his swollen eye. He winced as it came in contact with the bruise. As I held the ice there, I cleaned out the scrapes on his cheek and wiped the dirt and grime from the rest of his face.

"You know, Adam, you really don't have to get into a fistfight with every man who hits on me," I said quietly.

"I don't like when other guys look at you and I don't like when they're rude to you. What do you want me to do?" he snapped, returning to his angry tone already.

"I want you to take a deep breath and either talk it out or just walk away from the situation," I replied calmly.

He scoffed. "No! I'm not just going to let a guy act like a dick and treat you like a piece of meat and walk away from it. I'm sorry that I love you and I want to protect you!"

"Adam, I understand that, and I appreciate it, I really do, but I don't want to watch you get beat up by some schmuck just because you're standing up for me. As awful as you feel when you hear men saying rude things to me is exactly how awful I feel when I watch you get beat up by those jerks because I love you," I blurted out before I could think about what I was saying. That was becoming a bad habit. I should really stop that.

Adam, already poised to make another retort, stopped at this and looked at me with wide eyes.

"What did you say?" he asked quietly.

"I said I love you," I repeated. There was no use backing out of this one. "I love you and it hurts me to watch you get hurt."

"You've never – I always – but you never," he stuttered, unable to get a sentence out.

"I know, but being with you tonight at the Sinatra event and watching that awful man beat you up and not knowing if you were going to be okay made me realize that I do love you. I've known it for a while, actually, but I've been afraid to say it," I said.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because as long as I didn't say it, I thought I still had some kind of control over myself in the relationship. I guess I thought as long as I didn't say that I loved you, I wouldn't get too attached to you and you wouldn't be able to break my heart like Dylan did," I confessed.

"Did it work?" he asked.

"Do you think it worked?" I laughed. "Nope, it never does no matter how hard I try. Damn my fickle emotions," I joked.

Adam grinned at this. "Can you say it again?" he asked.

I stood up from my chair and sat instead on his lap, straddling him. I looked him straight in the unswollen eye and said, "I love you." I kissed him softly and whispered in his ear, "I love you." I brushed my lip along his jaw and whispered in his other ear, "I love you." I kissed his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his eyelashes, and his jaw, each time whispering, "I love you" afterwards. I finally landed on his lips again and kissed him for a long time, sharing his breath, running my hand that wasn't holding the ice to his face through his hair, pressing up against him, unable to get as close as I wanted to. He grew hard against me and wrapped his arms around me tightly, running his fingers through my hair and squeezing my waist.

I dropped the bag of ice on the table and showed him exactly how much I loved him.

A few hours later, we had migrated to the bedroom and lay panting, exhausted and grinning like idiots side by side in his bed. He had an arm around me and was running the other hand up and down my body caressingly; we didn't have much of a need for conversation. It was nice to just enjoy his company and not have to make him dinner or rub his feet or work from home because he was watching a basketball game on TV like Dylan would have done. If only Dylan could see me now. I should actually thank him and Melanie when I see them in work on Monday for giving me a good excuse to leave. Hey, wait… Monday. What day is it? Saturday we broke up, Sunday I went looking for apartments. Shit. Today was Monday.

"Oh my God," I muttered.

"Well that was kind of a delayed reaction, but I'll take it," Adam joked.

"No, no, no, no," I said, shaking my head and sitting up abruptly. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit."

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up with me.

"Today is Monday," I told him.

"What? No. Is it?" he scoffed.

"Check your phone," I replied.

He reached over and took his phone off of the bedside table. "Shit. It is Monday. How about that," he remarked.

"Yeah, how about that," I agreed sarcastically. "I missed work today. How about that? I didn't even call to tell anyone I wouldn't be going in. I haven't even been checking my phone all day."

"I'm sure everything will be fine. How many days have you ever missed?" Adam reassured me as I crossed the room, picking up articles of clothing and tossing them aside in search of my phone.

"None."

"None? Oh, psh. You'll be fine, then," he said easily.

"No, that's worse. I'm sure little miss _Melanie_ is just having a ball telling everyone that she, a lowly secretary, managed to not only steal the big editor Jenna's boyfriend but kicked her out of her apartment, too, and now she is so ashamed she couldn't even come in to work. She usurped me. She usurped my position in that household! Before I know it, she'll be after my job too and who's to say she won't successfully usurp me again? No. I need to get in there and settle the score. I need to mark my territory. This editor will NOT be usurped," I told Adam, a furious look in my eyes.

That dick was laughing.

"Why are you laughing? This isn't funny."

"Sorry. No, you're right. This is serious. Very serious business. I shouldn't laugh. I apologize, oh Queen," Adam replied sarcastically. "Don't worry. I won't try to usurp you," he laughed.

I tried to maintain a serious countenance but I couldn't do it. "You laugh now. You won't be laughing when I start using you for your money because I'm unemployed rather than just your fame," I joked and he laughed.

I found my phone and I checked it for the first time all day. I had three text messages and two phone calls. My good humor faded again and I groaned.

The first text had been sent by Layla. It said, "Hey, girl, where are you?"

The next one said, "I don't know how much value I should put on something that blonde secretary of Dylan's told me, but if what she is telling everybody is true, you know you can talk to me any time." Oh, that was nice.

The next text was from Dylan. It said, "I see your stuff is still at the apartment. I'm going to take that to mean that you don't want it anymore so I'm getting rid of it."

"What?" I shouted at my phone. That text was sent at 6:00 this evening. It was now close to 1:00 a.m.

"What's wrong now? Have you been officially usurped?" Adam continued, grinning.

"No, Dylan said he's dumping all of my stuff because I didn't pick it up today. Oh that dick. That dick. Tomorrow's Tuesday. Tuesday is garbage day. Adam, I have to go over there. I have to go over there right now. All of my stuff is going to be gone if I don't go over there right now," I told him frantically.

"Well then let's go over there right now," he agreed.

"You want to come too?" I asked.

"Don't even try to stop me. I'm coming whether you like it or not," he said, giving me a stern look.

Had the previous incidents at the bar not occurred tonight, I would have tried to convince him to let me handle it myself. However, I was not in the mood for another fight, so I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "Then let's go."

"We should put some clothes on first," Adam suggested.

"Yep."

Adam thought the best way to handle the situation was to come up with as many plots to seek revenge as possible, and he ran them past me on the way to the apartment.

"How about we take all of _his_ stuff and throw it out the window?" he suggested.

"Adam. He's going to be in the apartment. I don't think we'll have enough time for that before he calls the police," I reminded him.

"Okay, fine. Well, does he snore?" Adam asked.

"What?"

"Does he snore?"

"Yes. Why?" I asked, confused.

"We could take a video on my phone of him snoring and release it on Youtube," he explained.

I gave him a really? look.

"Okay, that was a lame one. Oh! But we could draw on his face with permanent marker and egg the apartment!"

"Are you twelve? If we're going to get revenge, it is going to be sophisticated, adult revenge," I said.

"You know you are awfully critical for someone who isn't coming up with any other better ideas," he pointed out.

"Oh I was planning on seeking my revenge at work," I brushed him off.

"How?"

"I was going to do the adult thing and spread a nasty rumor about them, like that Dylan has herpes and gave it to Melanie," I replied.

"Wouldn't everyone think that you have herpes too then? You know, because you also slept with Dylan?"

"Shit. I hadn't thought of that," I muttered.

At that point we had arrived at the apartment. Adam parked and I let out a heavy sigh.

"Hey," he said to me, taking my hand and smiling, "It's gonna be okay. We're going to get your stuff and leave a rude note on the door and then you'll never have to deal with him again."

I tried to smile back. "Except for every day at work," I pointed out.

"Well then I guess we'll just have to take a really bangin picture together so you can frame it and put it on your desk at work to remind him every time he walks by of exactly how happy you are with a better man," he said and I grinned.

"A much better man," I agreed, squeezing his hand. "Let's get this over with."

We got out of the car and I let us in to the apartment building. We got to the correct floor, and were walking down the hall when I stopped suddenly.

"Wait," I said.

"What's wrong?" Adam asked.

"He dumped my stuff. He said he was getting rid of it," I reminded him.

"Yeah. So?"

"Well it's not going to be in the apartment, then," I pointed out.

"Where else would it be?"

"Probably the trash room. That's generally where we put trash," I said.

"The trash room? You mean everyone on this floor puts their trash in the same room and you think that's where Dylan dumped your stuff too?"

"Yep."

"I fucking hate him."

"Me too."

We walked down the hall to the community trash room. The bin was completely filled with trash bags. I groaned.

"We're going to have to look through all of these bags of other people's trash to find my stuff," I said.

"Well, let's get cracking," he said.

"Seriously, Adam, if you don't want to do this, that's completely fine. You can just wait in the car. I don't expect you to dig through garbage at 1:30 in the morning to find my stuff," I told him.

"Baby, I would dig through trash all day for you," he said, grinning and I laughed.

"Aw. What a good guy," I swooned, laughing.

At first we tried to laugh and joke together about the situation, but after the first bag split on us, covering us with a stranger's garbage, we both lost our good humor and worked in silence. The longer it took us to find my stuff, the more my resentment towards Dylan grew.

After digging through that trash, I suddenly had a profound appreciation for people who use white trash bags rather than black ones. I also had a much deeper gratitude for strong trash bags after that because the not-so-strong ones often times got holes in them and because of that I got covered in some mystery substance about ten minutes into our mission.

Finally, after about forty-five minutes of searching, we found a bag with my clothes in it. We did a celebration dance when we found it. Luckily all of the other bags with my stuff in them were right next to each other, but they were still near the middle of the trash bin, so we went through quite a bit of trash to find them.

Once we found all of them, we loaded them into Adam's car. On the last trip down, I said, "Hey, Adam?"

"Yeah, babe?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at me as he walked out of the apartment building towards his car.

"I think Dylan deserves to know that we got my stuff, don't you?" I suggested.

He put the last bag in the car and turned to look at me, a devilish grin on his face.

"Why yes," he said, "yes I do."

"And I mean, we spent all of that time digging through trash, but why should we be the only ones to have all the fun?" I continued.

"I like where you're going with this," he grinned slyly.

"I'm just thinking out loud, but maybe we should just share some of the trash with him and dear old Melanie," I suggested.

"You're on," he agreed and we hurried back into the building, giggling like kids.

We each took two bags of the worst trash we could find and walked down the hall to Dylan's apartment.

"Shh," I whispered, grinning mischievously at Adam as I took the key out of my pocket and unlocked the front door as quietly as possible.

We tiptoed through the apartment and into Dylan's bedroom. At that point, I wanted him to know we were there, so I turned on the bright light walked over to the bed, opened up my bag of trash and dumped it all over them and the bed. After a moment of shock, Adam followed suit.

Dylan and Melanie both shot up, with confused expressions, bleary eyes, tousled hair and no clothes. I grimaced at this until they clutched the sheets to themselves, covering their bodies.

Melanie shrieked and Dylan swore loudly.

"What the fuck, Jenna? You said you were going to get your stuff today and you didn't. That isn't my fault. I was just cleaning up after you as always, you fucking bitch," Dylan shouted at me.

I was about to dispute that last comment, but Adam stepped in front of me before I could and said, "Apologize to her right now."

"What? I'm not going to apologize, you pussy," Dylan scoffed.

"Yeah, he doesn't have to apologize to you," Blondie piped up.

Oh that did it.

Adam glared at her, got a very confused look on his face, and turned back to Dylan. "Really? You left this beautiful, amazing, intelligent, strong woman," he said, gesturing at me, "for _that_? Man, have you fallen recently? You should get your head checked."

At this point, Dylan had gotten out of bed and was walking towards Adam, who pushed me behind him.

He reeled back and punched Dylan square in the nose. I let out a shocked laugh but quickly caught myself and stepped forward in an unenthusiastic attempt to stop Adam.

"That's for the last hour we spent digging through trash," Adam clarified as Dylan recovered, clutching his nose and turning slowly to face Adam, an angry ire in his eyes.

Adam swung back and punched him again with a sickening crack. "That's for making her give you a blow job on your birthday," he added while Dylan recovered again, this time taking another step towards Adam and swinging at him.

Adam ducked, however, and punched Dylan in the face one last time. "And that is for making me wait as long as I did to date her," he said as Dylan fell to the ground, passed out.

"Babe, that might have been a little bit too much," I muttered, putting my hand on Adam's shoulder.

Melanie had been shrieking like a banshee this whole time. "I'm going to call the cops! I'm going to call the cops!" she whined.

"If you do, I _will_ get you fired, you little skank, for having inappropriate relations at the workplace," I threatened her. She immediately lowered the phone. "By the way, don't think you're going to be living in this apartment for free. That cheap ass isn't going to let you stay here without paying half of the rent. You need that job."

I turned to Adam. "Let's go before someone else calls in a domestic disturbance," I said and he nodded, leaving the room. I followed behind him, but before I made it out the door, I turned back to Melanie.

"By the way, just to be clear, you did not make me leave. I left by choice and I moved up to a better situation. I have NOT been usurped," I told Melanie, glaring at her for one last, long, clarifying moment before turning on my heel and storming out.

At the front door, I stopped Adam. "Wait," I said.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm taking the TV," I declared, marching over to it, unplugging it, and lifting the 54" screen alone. "I paid for this fucking thing. It belongs to me," I said decisively.

"Jenna, you have never been sexier," Adam told me, grinning from ear to ear. "Here, let me take that." He took the TV out of my arms and we marched triumphantly out of the apartment.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Please review!_**

**Chapter 10**

The next few months were honestly some of the best months of my life. I had never been so happy. Not just occasionally, sometimes content. I was happy, like grinning ear-to-ear and laughing so hard I couldn't breathe happy every single day. Adam treated me like I was a queen. No one had ever been so nice to me. He loved me more passionately than any boyfriend I had heretofore had, and I loved him with the same burning passion. We made love every day, sometimes more than once, in every room of his house and even in the pool one time (although we realized that was too difficult, so that was a one-time ordeal). We made it a point to take time out of our busy days to spend loving each other.

One such tradition, for example, started the first time I came back to his house after work (the day after the garbage debacle). He was sitting at the kitchen table with Frankie at his feet when I walked in. It had been a long, long day, I was exhausted and I wanted nothing more than to change out of my dress shirt and pants, put on comfortable clothes and have a glass of wine in the California sunshine. As soon as I walked through the door, however, Adam glanced up from whatever he was working on, face completely lit up (which, by the way, happened each and every time I came home from work to him no matter how long we dated), and said, "Hey, babe."

"Hey," I replied, throwing him an exhausted smile.

I was about to walk past him to the bedroom to get changed, but he wrapped his arms around my waist as I passed him and pulled me in to his lap.

"Adam, can I please just go get changed before we start this?" I asked.

"Not until I kiss you," he replied.

I took his face in my hands and quickly kissed him. "There. Now can I get changed?" I asked.

"That was barely even a kiss," he scoffed.

"Why are you doing this? I'll kiss you all night if you want, I just want to get changed," I begged.

"I want to kiss you when either one of us gets back from work. Not just little pecks like you gave me just there – I mean real, passionate kisses. I want to kiss you like it's the first time we have ever kissed when you get home from work. I don't want us to take each other's company for granted. I always want us to have passion for each other," he explained.

As much as I wanted to change into comfortable clothes, those words made me forget such a thing as a pair of sweatpants existed. He was amazing. He was so different from Dylan in such a good way.

"Yeah, I think that's a really good idea," I agreed.

"Yeah?" he asked, grinning.

"Definitely. A _really_ good idea," I added, wrapped my arms around his neck, ran my fingers through his hair, and brought my face to his, staying only a few millimeters away. Adam closed that final distance, kissing my nose first, and then my lips. He definitely held up his end of the bargain. He kissed me like he had that first night on the balcony and in his bed – like this was his last chance to ever kiss me and he was going to make the most of it. His passion was contagious, and soon I found I was dying to get out of those pesky clothes for a much different reason.

We stopped before we got that far. I pulled back and he followed me, leaving a few last, short kisses on my lips before we separated, forehead against forehead, both panting slightly.

"I love you, Jenna," he whispered.

"I love you so much, Adam," I said softly, stroking his face and kissing him one last time.

Yeah, so that's how things went with us. And it wasn't just the hot sex that made me so happy. It was the relationship. He actually listened to me when I talked. We actually had real conversations.

The conversation we had after the same incident I just described is a perfect example. After I had changed into shorts and a t-shirt and threw my hair into a ponytail, I came back out to the kitchen, poured myself that glass of wine I had wanted, and sat down at the table with Adam, propping my feet up on his legs as I did so.

"How did things go at work today?" he asked, pushing aside the notebook he had been writing in, setting his pen down, and leaning back in his chair, his hands falling to my legs on his lap.

I grimaced. "You probably don't want to hear about it," I said.

"No, I do. What happened?" he asked, running his hand up and down my leg.

"That's okay, I'll tell you later. I can see that you're busy. I don't want to interrupt you. Especially if those are new song lyrics. I have to think of the greater good, Adam. The world needs your music more than I need to talk about my shitty day," I pointed out. That may come off as being sarcastic verging on bitter, but I was serious. What were my stupid problems in comparison to his amazing music, aka the soundtrack to my life?

"Jenna," he said, grabbing my legs firmly. "It can wait. I want to talk to you. I don't want to write any more."

I continued to stare at him questioningly.

"Besides, it isn't song lyrics. I was making a grocery list," he added.

"Oh, well in that case," I scoffed, repositioned myself in my chair and laughed as Adam shook his head at me. "Well everything was going just fine. I was having a good day. Then I got to work," I started and Adam laughed. "And I had told myself before I got there, I had said, 'Jenna, you just go in there with your head held high and if anybody asks about the rumors that blonde bimbo has been spreading, you set the record straight, but otherwise, just act like nothing happened at all.' So that's what I did, but then there were some people that I could just tell in their faces that they didn't believe me when I said that I'm perfectly happy. They thought I was just hiding my true feelings and really I was torn up about being dumped. When I tried to tell them that the only reason I missed work yesterday is because I spent the day with the lead singer of my favorite band and lost track of time, they only thought I was making up a stupid story to cover up for the fact that I had been cheated on and dumped," I explained.

"Then I guess I'm just going to have to pay you a surprise visit at work," Adam decided, grinning at me.

"That's not necessary," I said.

"Why not? I'd like to come see my baby in action," he protested.

"I mean, there are going to be a lot of swooning women. You're sure you wouldn't mind that? Besides, you're busy. You don't have time for that," I reasoned.

"I can make time if it will make you happier," he offered.

I started to respond but stopped, touched by this. "Oh, babe," I said. "That's so sweet of you. You're the best." I reached over and took his hand, moving my chair closer to his so I could hold his hand in my lap. "Well, do what you like. I'm not going to try to sway you either way.

"Anyway, so then I got into my office and I was working and I was fine and then my boss came in to talk to me about yesterday. So I had to explain the entire situation to him. He was mostly just upset that I hadn't called to say I wasn't coming in. He didn't care so much about my personal life. However, he is really good friends with Dylan, so I am 99% certain that Dylan told him about our little visit with him last night. Either way, he wasn't happy with me. He told me I lost five vacation days for that and that I am not allowed to take any time off at all for the next month," I continued.

"What? That's bullshit," Adam protested.

"I know and I told him that but he just told me I'm lucky I didn't get fired," I replied.

"That is such bullshit. You've never missed a single day. And you've written a fucking novel. You deserve to be an editor and he's lucky he has someone with your credentials," Adam pointed out, infuriated.

"I know, babe, I know. It's fine. Don't worry about it. I wasn't planning on taking any vacation days in the next month anyway. It'll be fine. I just need to keep my head down and not cause any trouble and everything will be back to normal soon," I reassured him, rubbing my thumb across the back of his hand.

I could tell he still wasn't happy, but he calmed down infinitesimally and I continued my story.

"So then, at lunch, Melanie walked by me and dumped her tray of food and drink – some red drink, no less – all over me. All she said was, "Oops. I should be careful where I leave my garbage" and she just kept walking," I added, using my ditzy voice for Melanie, completely resigned at this point. I didn't have any energy left to be angry and the wine was calming me down as well.

"Are you shitting me?" Adam demanded, now very angry. "That bitch. I should have punched her too when I had the chance."

"Don't be silly, Adam, you would never hit a woman," I brushed him off.

"No, you're right, I wouldn't," he agreed, and I felt a surge of pride. Of course he wouldn't hit a woman. He was such a good man. I squeezed his hand tighter as he continued. "But she would have deserved it. Well, what about your clothes? I didn't notice food all over your clothes when you came home," he pointed out.

I ignored the fact that he referred to his home as my home as well, and replied, "I always keep a change of clothes at the office. You never know when you might need it. And I spill stuff on myself a lot, so I have needed that change more than once."

He nodded and I continued my story. "Then, later on in the day, I saw Dylan. Um, babe, do you want a glass of wine, too?" I asked. He was going to need it after this part of the story.

"Nah, I'm fine. What did Dylan do?" he brushed off easily.

"Are you sure? I think you're going to want some wine," I persisted.

"Jenna, what did he do?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Okay, before I tell you, please promise me you won't do or say anything to him. Please?" I started, grasping his hand tightly.

"What did he do to you?" Adam demanded, an angry gleam in his eyes.

"Promise," I insisted. "I'm not telling you until you promise. Are you sure you don't want any wine?"

"No, I don't want the wine. Just tell me what he did."

I stared at him blankly.

"Fine, I promise," he relented.

"Okay, um. Well, we were – we were in the copy room. And no one else was around and um…"

My heart was racing. I gripped Adam's hand tighter, that hand that made me feel so safe. He was going to flip when I told him. I didn't want to deal with any more angry people today. That was the last thing I wanted to deal with. I just wanted to relax with Adam. Damn my soap opera life.

"Um, he kind of, pinned me. Against the wall."

I couldn't make eye contact with him. My eyes darted around the room, looking for a good place to rest. Anywhere but those concerned, green eyes that I would need to calm back down after I finished my anecdote. I settled on our linked hands – my safe spot.

"And he said, 'If I ever see your little pussy boyfriend anywhere near me, my girlfriend or my apartment again, I will beat the shit out of his ass and then call the cops.' And so I said, 'You're going to call the cops so they can arrest you for assault?' And he said, 'Just don't let him near me ever again.' And I said, 'Fine.' And he said, 'And I want the TV back.' And I told him, 'Well you can't have it. The TV is mine. I paid for it. I still have the receipt. You can take me to court if you want; it's not going to get you anywhere. I will end up keeping it because it belongs to me.' And he got really angry but didn't say anything, and he still had me pinned up against the wall, and I said, 'Listen, Champ, I still have work to do, so could you please move?' And then, well, I shouldn't have said this," I added in retrospect.

"What shouldn't you have said?" asked Adam who was smiling slightly at this point.

"'Don't you have a secretary to screw?'" I admitted quietly, ashamed.

Adam laughed loudly. "You didn't say that."

"I did," I said softly, nodding.

"Oh, I love you, Jenna," he laughed, reaching over and kissing my cheek. I winced and I guess he noticed. Not much gets past him. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Well, that's why I shouldn't have said what I said," I replied quietly. "Because then he… he hit me. Pretty hard."

"HE WHAT?" Adam demanded, immediately going from his good humor to a very, very bad one.

I averted my eyes and just continued to nod slowly.

"There's no mark on your face," he pointed out, his voice quieter now.

"I covered it up with makeup," I said softly.

"Oh, baby. What did you do?" he asked quietly. I looked up quickly. He leaned towards me, eyes gazing earnestly at mine. Were those… tears in his eyes? Was he tearing up? I must be imagining things.

I dropped our gaze again as I continued, "Well, I was in shock so I just stared at him for a moment and then someone else came into the room, and he left," I finished.

The silence stretched on for a seemingly endless amount of time. I couldn't bring myself to look back up at Adam. I was too ashamed and afraid. Why would he want to continue to be involved with someone whose life was so dramatic and complicated?

Eventually, I whispered, "Please say something."

"Are you okay?" he finally asked, his voice quavering.

I looked up at him for the first time since I told him. Yes. He was crying. He was still leaning as far forward as he could, grasping onto my leg with one hand and my hand with the other.

I reached over and brushed the tears off of his face. "Yeah," I replied softly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He just continued to stare at me, crying softly, grasping my hand and leg tightly, slowly shaking his head.

"Baby, don't cry," I whispered. I let go of his hand, took my legs off of him and slid onto his lap. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and buried his face in my breasts. I rubbed his back with one hand and stroked his hair with the other, whispering, "Shhh".

After a few minutes, I asked him, "Why are you crying?"

"Because it's my fault that that asshole hurt you," he replied, lifting his head from my chest to stare at me.

I wiped the tears from his face again and said, "Baby, it's not your fault. I shouldn't have been such a smart ass. I need to learn to bite my tongue."

"If I hadn't beaten him up he wouldn't have cornered you in the first place," Adam insisted.

I shook my head. "He still would have wanted the TV," I pointed out. Adam made no reply, just straightened up, brushed his palm roughly against his face to rid it of tears, and pulled me into a tight embrace.

"It's just a little bruise. I'll be fine. I will just avoid Dylan from now on, and if I do see him, I won't give him any reason to touch me," I reasoned.

"It's not just a little bruise," Adam said. "A man should never hit a woman, ever. No matter what."

"Well, a real man wouldn't. That's just the difference. He's not a real man," I pointed out.

Adam hugged me tighter, kissing my neck softly as he did so. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"I'm sure," I replied.

"You know what, on second thought, I will have some of that wine."

So like I said, he listened to me. He respected my boundaries. For example, I found an apartment of my own not long after that incident. I still spent a good bit of time at Adam's house, but I liked having my own apartment as well. If I was at Adam's place late and I didn't feel like driving home, I just stayed the night. Adam also spent his fair share of time at my place as well. Tuesday nights were band dinner nights, and I was not only invited, but I even hosted the occasional band dinner night at my apartment.

Another great thing about being with Adam was that he didn't expect me to wait on him hand and foot like Dylan had. He cooked just as often as I did. He cleaned up after himself when he was at my place. He helped me wash the dishes after a meal and did his own laundry. He was, in every way, an improvement over Dylan. And really over every other boyfriend I had ever had in my life.

Also, Adam liked to do things more than Dylan did. Even though his schedule was three times as busy with concerts, press events, band meetings, the Voice, and other obligations he had because of the band, he still made time for us to do exciting things together. Whenever he had a concert, he always got a ticket for me and a friend if I chose to bring one. We went to quite a few Lakers games (they were his favorite team and I've always loved going to live basketball games). Sometimes on particularly nice days we went for rides along the coast on his motorcycle. He took me out to fancy dinners on a regular basis. He even took me to Disney Land one time (I had always wanted to go and never had).

Basically, the next three months were everything I could have ever asked for. Adam was the absolute perfect boyfriend. We had fun together. We loved each other desperately and passionately. We talked to each other. We listened to each other. We were on cloud nine for those first few months. And any time a reporter from any form of media asked either of us how our relationship was going, we always just replied with, "Everything is perfect."


End file.
